— by Margaret Wideyke
As pale streaks of coral open
The closed, dark, nighttime skies,
Two women trudge the dusty road
That leads to the place where He lies.
Bring burial spices, they enter,
Subdued by all that happened before.
As they near the tomb they remember
The rock that blocks the door.
But when they reach the site,
The rock stands at one side,
And within, an angel dressed in white
Speaks of their Lord who was crucified.
Joyful, astonished, afraid to believe,
For a moment, they stand paralyzed.
Then they rush to report what the angel said
As the glorious sun is on the rise.