The Tomb

In some old,
dark,
black,
dead,
tomb.

Something
is happening.

A body of Someone,
wrapped in linen cloths.

There is suddenly
a thickness in the air.

Then.
a once-still
heart
began to beat
again.

A quickening of pulse,
a wave of neurons sending
minute messages
once more
down
and up
the spine.

His skin is warm again.

His eyes flick open.

The faint,
scratchy sound of tearing linen,

a burst
of spiced scents
meant for burial.

Then, a breath escapes His
warming lips.

His lungs work again,

but inhale
more deeply,
wholly,
fully
of oxygen
and life.

He steps
out
of His
ex-tomb,
that cannot hold His new body,

It cannot
hold
the Power of
His Spirit.

Then,
a deep boom,

as great stone
is rolled off
the entrance.

Or exit.

Depends on
how you
see
it.

Wary
guards,
employed by
suspicious
Romans,
are blinded
for a
time.

They cannot contain
nor hold
Him.

Just like the tomb.

He walks out of it,
and so
He goes out into
the world,
that,
for a time,
could not hold Him.

Though the blood
He paid
now
allows it to be so.

Today,
Tommorow,
Forever.

The
ultimate
Happy Ending.