Tell Me Again

Tell Me Again

(“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the One Who raises the dead and gives them life. Anyone who puts his trust in Me will live again, even if he dies.’” John 11:25)

Tell me again, because I do believe, the life
I find in the skeletal darkness, the afternoon when
the cold will not give way. Tell me again,
I still will trust, how alive the day is when
tears run like robbers from the scene of a crime.

I love You, I love You, and You understand,
don’t you,
why painful symmetry is the clearest bell
that rings dawn, clangs midnight, clanks lunch
and clinks canceled hope of Saturday afternoon
picnics or a tour around the back nine.

Tell me again, because I’ve read it true, how Lazarus, dead
plus 4, had nothing to say when You finally showed up a day
(or two) later than his sisters knew; how could You! Sick, You
might have healed. Dead, the tomb concealed his deterioration in
progress.

I love You, I love You, and You, Son of Man,
won’t you?
When You rang, clear as a bell a dead man’s name,
the heavens opened, angels sang, and the pangs of
putrid flesh sprang from the dirt baby-fresh and
eye’s alive!

Tell me again, because I do believe, my name,
is it worth just a whisper; today, this day, this
afternoon? To catch the death that caps my head
with bands of iron, could You mouth the words,
my name,
just once? To clear my conscience, and paint the
black against the white, I confess I’ve not followed,
believed, or walked upright; not like Lazarus, but

I love You, I love You, and You suffer too.