Did You wake with the keys in Your hand?
Use them to tear the feeble funeral bands?
Still hot from Sheol,
Did You have a pain in Your side -
when You felt the rush of air into those lungs that spoke Lazarus alive?
The smell of nard and embalming still sickly sweet
And the clean dust of a barely used tomb still neat
and tidy, arranged by Your family
Your vision and mission, the transaction complete.
Did You still feel the searing in your hands and Your feet?
And say
Aha! my bride!
Aha! I’m back!
Swing your newborn feet down to the ground, and hear the slap
and the muffled stone scrape of your fireclad giants outside tearing open the scab
of the ground,
That “held” You
what an image:
The Invisible G-d pinned down
(Oh I grimace)
Torn open
And bled out
Hung up
And bowed down
Oh sign of Jonah
Your whale the whole groaning earth
3 days You traversed a path no one has ever walked
Was it cold or hot?
What cliffside walls or serpentine rocks
Did you climb, or was it nothing at all?
Empty in the pain of Your Fathers turn
As You bore my transgression.
For me You bore into the dark
Labored and fought
What weapons
What demons
What tortures did You bear
How long did it feel
And did You think of me there?
And when your time was up
The task was done for
did You hear the Father's voice
Calling You come forth?
Now
Firstborn of all creation - time to exit Your womb
It is finished,
it has now begun
The throne is Yours, and the hallways of Heaven echo
with breathless quiet,
The winged warriors watch rapt
while
Their captain awakens
Struck down by fragile
And soft men
Those for whom
You came
To pluck from hell
That old devil
Can tell
You broke his gate latch
And he shudders with fear
As You climb through the hatch.
Poem: Nathaniel Cooley 2020
Painting: Master of the life of the Virgin
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