The emptiness clings to my every thought and actions
today. From those early waking moments, it’s been
burgeoning, bringing all my doubts to the fore.
The tabernacle stands vacant, the blood-stained
cross abandoned, just as He was by so many in
His hour of need.
We are all scattered, dispersed in mind and body,
trying to get on, murdering the mundane, treating
it like any other day, except that it’s not.
He is gone;
His flesh was pierced;
He gave up His life;
He has died.
The bloodied nails now discarded,
the crown of thorns crushed like our spirits,
He lies in the tomb and we seek solace
from others as the day draws to its close.
But at the appointed time we are finally called,
feeling the need to be together,
gathering at dusk in quiet anticipation
until the liturgy has begun,
until the charcoal fire is lit,
until the Paschal candle burns brightly for all,
dispelling darkness and fear,
and we have hope back in our lives once more.—