Up from the grave
If the tomb wasn’t empty, is faith in vain?
If the body, blood and bone didn’t rise up;
if all that arose was light, life, love
and that in which we live, and move and have our being
can we find peace?
I’ve had my crucifixions, and my wanderings through the swamps of hell.
I’ve spent some days shivering in the cold, damp blackness of the tomb.
Waiting
Wondering
Descending into despair.
But life has resurrected me
Over and over
I believe in the resurrection.