31 March 2013

For Easter





Post Resurrection 101
Luke 24:13-35
Awash in grief
we fled Jerusalem,
dust of that place
clinging to us
even as we ran.
No words
tears only
making me blind
once again.
When the stranger met us
I resented him,
hated him.
Could he not see the grief?
Or was he blind too?
He asked for our story
and in sobs
we threw words at him
in hopes of seeing his tears.
He was pleasant
compassionate
soft-spoken.
The rage of our grief
did not touch him.
He began quoting Scripture
line after line of stale
tired verses.
Did he not hear our grief?
For miles he ignored our weeping.
Evening
on the doorstep
of the familiar again
he finished with us and
turned to go.
My grief rose up
and captured him.
I dragged him inside the tomb
of our home.
Seated at our table
his memorized words
were useless.
We offered him our sorrow
on heaping plates.
He took them
at last.
He broke open before us
and rose again
fleeing the tomb.
He left us behind,
two messengers
blazing in the night.

~~Shannon O'Donnell

first published April 2001, National Catholic Reporter

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