Resurrection Morning: A Poem Inspired by John 20:11-18

The early morning dark makes it hard to see the one standing before me.
Where is my Rabbi?
Where is my friend?
Where is the one I have given my life to?

The tomb is empty.

The brightness of the angel is overwhelming.
The gardener asking me why I am weeping is infuriatingly annoying.
Then, He says my name.

It is Jesus.
The one I am seeking.
The one my heart longs for.

To hear His voice again restores my soul.
He is alive. I have seen the Lord.


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