Resurrection

What became of the many others like us

That first Easter morning

Who stared out the back windows of their houses

With blank cups of coffee in their hands

And saw nothing but overcast skies and leafless trees

And weeping weather that mourned for Spring

And did not hear a knock at the door

Or receive a telephone call

From a recently deceased loved one

Or pass Him along the road to an ancient city

Or see the sun rise up from a hole in the earth

Like Hosanna

I Lazarus

What could I make of the grass

But a gate to the skies

Looking up

Clouds floating by

Like the shapes of the dead ones

As radiant as angels

And when I opened the earth

Their tombs were all empty

My mother and father

The first to speak

Come here son

O how we missed you

All I could do was weep