Be Still

I am Lazarus, lying still.
In the whitewashed tomb
even time stops running,
runs down, stops.
The air is still, unstirred by
breath of life; deep dark
unbroken by flashing eye,
or a rogue smile.
I am Lazarus, numb,
unfeeling, unknowing,
unloving, undone;
deep in death, I am still.
And it dawns on me that he
is God. My eyes fly
open, my heart also,
and my grave.

This entry was posted in meditation, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Be Still

  1. jrbenjamin says:

    Very strong poetry. I love the subject, and the meter and word choice work well in congruence. I really enjoyed reading this. Well done.

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