somehow, the world keeps spinning
i
the women
arms filled
with spices and perfumes
hearts emptied
of how it was supposed to be
still came to see the one
shrouded in death
instead startled by two strangers
they wondered about his whereabouts
then
then they remembered
then they remembered his words
ii
same day
two more downtrodden
treading the path
getting their steps in
walking out their grief
they heard it all from a stranger
- different than the last –
but still could not see
then
then their eyes were opened
then their eyes were opened and they recognized him
iii
the eleven encircled the two
when the One invited himself in
the sight before them seemed a mirage
befuddled even
as they touched
the gaping wounds
then
then he opened their minds
then he opened their minds so they could understand
iv
it starts with one small remembrance
around the creaky harvest table
bounded on one side
by the re-homed, re-stained pew
soon the re-telling is rolling
cascading conversations
reactions following actions
strung together breathlessly
simply by
then
v
it seems as if
the world would stop
if not for
then
Written by Scott Moore
Illustrated by Landon Wideman
Inspired May 2023