But did the very earth fall silent? 
Or was the drumbeat of falling rain, 
children of the waters of creation falling again, 
amplified by the rock roof, turning the storm 
into an orchestra of praise; what of susurrating ants, 
murmuring earthworms, galvanized by the hewing of the tomb 
into frantic activity, antithesis of the stillness of death? 
The olive trees swayed and dipped and dripped 
their sap into the fruit that would become fat 
over the sabbath rest left undisturbed. 
Perhaps it is only when we fall silent for long enough 
to forget the distraction of our own hearts beating 
that we hear creation’s call to prayer, and in that stillness, 
God turning back, preparing the reply …