That Morning

They slept on, unaware, as the dawn stalked Jerusalem.
In the city and the towns and the villages, they navigated dreams and nightmares, stretching out as in the freedom of flight and curling back as if returning to the womb.

Amber sunlight gently warmed the death-cold stone, illuminating diamond dew, and elbowing shadows out of the way. Today was not for shadows.
The night creatures retreated to their lairs and the birds heralded a new day in a cacophony of glory.

Tentatively the morning rays entered the tomb, motes of dust sparkling with new possibilities, and unneeded graveclothes finding colour once more.
The body was gone and hope awoke, rubbing sleep from its eyes, and forgetting whip and thorn and nail.

And outside, as nervous footsteps approached, Death continued to stalk the world in his Sunday best, but his heart was no longer in it.

Published by Steve

Exploring Faith, Creativity and Whimsy

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