Holy Saturday
Our first time through the story, we despair:
All you came to do and be and save,
All love and peace and hope lies with you there,
Cold and dead and buried in the grave.
Our next time through, the light of Sunday’s sun
Reaches back into the darkness passed,
Expelling Friday’s shadows. So we run
Headlong into Easter all too fast.
We cannot hear the story twice the same
Could both be true, though locked in contradiction?
Could each narration speak a single name?
The Risen Lord; the man of crucifixion.
We find you on this day between the days:
The man exalted; God within the grave.
Holy Saturday 2014
Inspired by the work of Alan Lewis
Note: If you want to read some truly beautiful and deeply profound poetry, I cannot recommend the work of Malcolm Guite highly enough. He frequently posts his poetry on his blog. I found his sonnet sequence on the Stations of the Cross especially moving. His book, Sounding the Seasons, is a gem in my library.
Guite is my favourite poet too.
When someone writes an piece of writing he/she keeps the plan of a user in his/her mind that how a
user can understand it. So that’s why this piece of writing is outstdanding. Thanks!