A Song for the Tomb

A SONG FOR THE TOMB
Teresa Morgan
 
Ages before Jerusalem was founded
I was formed for this day.
God said, shall these sea bones live?
I will sculpt me a tomb: a lime white chamber
fit for a king.
 
I was ready when they brought him in:
bloody and broken, like a king from his last
battle.  Dusk was falling.  They hurried, careful.
So careful.  They were brittle with pain.
They straightened him (legs, arms, head) in the niche;
stopped my mouth with a rock, and crept away.
 
We were quiet together.
He slept inside me.  I cradled him,
like a child unborn. Outside,
Earth shuddered; the sun failed; stars shot like bolts
Through warring heavens.
I kept him safe. 
 
til he began to stir
like the child whose time has come.
The deep places of creation whispered,
Let there be light!
A mighty spasm shook the stone.  I gaped.
He rose  For a moment
he stood facing the dawn, then he was gone.
 
Later
there would be angels, blazing-eyed
and docile, folding linen bandages.
There would be men and women, storms of grieving
suddenly stilled.
But first, as the sun rose,
there was just the light and silence. A cave empty
and a world full of promises fulfilled.
 
(from The Journey to Jerusalem by John Pritchard, pg. 123)