Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
* The women followed, and they saw the tomb and how his
body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and
ointments. On the sabbath they rested according to the
commandment. * —Luke 23.55-56
The grave, how anguished a stillness.
A seed not moving. Not even trying.
The actual weight of zero,
the mass of absence.
Too late now for watches
in the watches of mourning's
unhurried gestation.
Soil slowly draws the flesh
into its loving embrace,
its soft, dark bed.
Those remaining do not remain
but are changed
no less than the remains.
If there is a birth canal
might this be death's?
Grief gradually becomes
not a road but a landscape,
and then a road.
A wanting becomes waiting
for what is
but is not yet revealed.
The stone not yet rolled
from the womb,
not knowing what,
only that
something that is still shall be,
the mystery unveiled
only in removal.
Waiting but only for this moment.
The quiet leaves coming to,
and the weeping of the women
under the small-birded sky.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
*Unfolding Light *
www.unfoldinglight.net
*April 11, Holy Saturday, 2020 *
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