Who Will Roll Away the Stone?

I wrote this poem after meditating on Mark 16 back in 2015. I don't often write poetry, but for some reason this one stuck with me for a long time and I kept thinking about it for months afterwards. I remembered it today as the Church celebrates the Resurrection. I hope it blesses you.

Who Will Roll Away the Stone?

Early I rise to lie spices
upon your rotting flesh
Sweet scent to smother stench

Distracted by distraught
I remember late, already on my way
the stone, too large
Blocks this anointing aroma from piercing the darkness.

Who will roll away the stone?

Sun still sleeping.
No one yet risen.
No one alive. 

Who will help me?

Not a small thing, this rock.
Stone the weight of my heart's sorrow.
Mass of sadness and dashed dreams.


Light shines from the tomb!
Darkness should be there.
Disintegrating hopes, decomposing flesh.
Instead light composes melodies of wonder.

Hope rises

Stone of my heart rolled away!
A stranger testifies, offers peace.
Feel not shock of emptiness
Feel joy in fullness 

Go! Now!

Re-directed passion
No longer hasten to the tomb of sorrow in the darkness
But hasten to my brothers, the disciples.

And Peter.            
Hasten to Peter.
Tell him it's a race and "I'll beat you there."

Risen Son, you always "beat me there."
On my way to death you got there first.
And everyday you go before me to
Roll away the stone of my heart.



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