Between an end and beginning

 

Between an end and beginning

I’m sure he lies there resting

coiled tight within the rock.

 

It is Saturday, when one week dies

another comes to life.

 

I’m sure he lies there thinking

recounting Friday’s traumatic trial.

 

It is a reflective time of grace,

mercy and a time of sacrifice.

 

I’m sure he lies there listening

as authorities rejoice his brutal failure.

 

Outside the law stands firm

expecting no miracles.

 

I’m sure he lies there waiting,

anticipating Sunday’s redemptive sunrise.

 

 

 

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