Then, Easter

First, light,
filtered through linen and lidded eyes;
then the rumble of thunder of the rolling stone;
then the taste of vinegar lingering on my lips;
(The shroud sticks to my face as I sit up,
helped by four strong hands on my arms,
then falls away.
It all falls away.)
Then I rise, and feel again
the earth beneath my (wounded) feet;
Then walk, unsteadily at first,
(the strong hands at my shoulders)
out into the new green world.

Tobias Stanislas Haller, BSG
Holy Saturday 2004