Holy Saturday

Carved into rock the tomb stood waiting,
the body wrapped in linen tight
with spices;
according to Jewish law.

A stone rolled before the entrance,
within only darkness,
silence,
that only death can bring,
the interior cold
the body alone in its inner nothingness

The void,
the thing feared most,
to drop in
never to be seen again,
gone,
leaving only an interior emptiness
for those left behind.

In the beginning light,
heat death for the universe in the end;
so for the body,
what was once alive
now without heat only cold remaining,
lifeless.

All that we love ends,
our works,
art,
our loved ones,
friends,
civilizations,
brought to absurdity because of this,
the great crumbling,
entropy,
flowers of the field,
the whole universe slowly fading
into it’s ending,
length of time does not matter
for in the end nothing.

So within silence,
only cold and deep darkness for company,
it is just a tomb after all,
yet
a guard placed before its entrance,
which gives us pause
why a guard at the tomb(?),
perhaps,
just perhaps,
we need to wait in the silence and see.