the morning rose
quiet in the garden,
this garden of white,
of stone slabs and marble markers,
hiding unlife from prying eyes.

she walked in somber silence,
treading the path carefully,
taking her time,
heart-heavy, yet there
to fulfill her duty.

she found the place,
the silence echoing hers,
and in wonder she looked,
fearing the significance
of the absence of the guards.

and there, she stared
at the huge round stone
rolled to one side,
revealing the gaping mouth
of the white sepulcher.

effortlessly the salty pearls
rolled from her eyes, down her cheeks,
as she peered into the empty tomb,
screaming in silence
what, and why, and where…

and like a kite deserted by the wind,
she fell upon her knees,
her strength bereft,
weeping for the absence
of that which she came for.

the footsteps behind her
told her she was not alone,
and so she gave voice to her anguish,
asking for directions
to the presence of her lord…

and then He spake….


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