Holy Saturday

 “So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away.” Matthew 27:59-60

our hearts ripped
apart like the veil
in the Temple,
the bitter wind
loneliness
rattling our windows,
we huddle in the shadows
of the corners, cradling
our grief.
meanwhile
in a deserted upper room,
Spirit
plays a dirge
on her trombone,
God sits at
the cigarette-scarred
upright composing
a tune that will
stun the universe
and behind a stone door,
the Word scribbles
new lyrics
for the angelic choir.

(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman