lenten journal: resurrection


    we stood in the columbarium
    well after sunrise
    to speak of resurrection
    with the names of those
    who share death in common
    as our backdrop
    the whistle of trees
    our soundtrack and
    the promise of pancakes
    waiting for us inside

    as we retold the story I heard
    the passive verb:
    the stone was rolled away
    as though coming back
    to life were as easy as
    sliding a door to find
    the tomb as empty
    as a bag of oreos
    only the wrapper left
    next to a smiling angel

    later thomas would ask to
    see Jesus’ pierced palms
    but they only show he died
    you must turn the hands over
    look at the heart whose
    knuckles are skinned
    tiny cuts of commitment
    fingernails filled with hope
    coming back to life means
    putting your shoulder into it



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