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.