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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?


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


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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