Opposite the Tomb

Opposite the Tomb

(“Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.” Matthew 27:61)

The chair was vacant, the air was heavy and still,
the hills groaned as afternoon lumbered toward darkness,
the last words they heard tumbling from above the crowd;

They heard them.
They rehearsed them.
They sat with nothing to occupy their hands.

“It is finished”, it is done, it’s all over, we tried our best,
no more can be done, no more to offer, and the quest-
ions

They thought had been answered landed like geese all at once
upon a distant marsh.

The tomb was sealed, the body cold and rigid,
without torches to meet the night they could not stay
seated across the entrance for long. Their hearts were peeled
like summer fruit, their eyes veiled the hope that disappeared as
quickly as the last breath and word they heard.

One cannot interpret, one should not expect, sunrise only moments
after the dimming of the day.

Their fingers, cold as the moon, twisted, hand to hand, the human
consolation when god has dropped the final word on the subject and
is no longer available for follow-up questions.

And so, late on Friday, their eyes fastened on the massive stone,
they slowly rose for the silent walk home; Sabbath, so quiet,
each heartbeat carried its own conversation.

With little else to say, nothing else to do, the rose early
(they knew the tomb, the place and the way), and would love
their Jesus kindly with burial spices;

Some days are like that…quiet recall on a dewy morning,
an errand of love, and intimate conversation when “It is

Finished”

Is not a dying whimper at all.

Across from their seat, still vacant from Friday,
the stone was moved, the air was linen, and, with angelic reasoning

They knew they were mistaken to seek the

Living among the dead.