The Rock's Cry

I am heavy.

It took many men to roll me into place.

I sank into the ditch, hollowed out to keep me from shifting.

One side of me basks in the sun, is caressed by the wind. Whitewashed, I am passed by mourners, touched by the grieving. My every crevice can hear them weeping.

The other side is dark and cold. It is quiet on this side. A resting place. Unclean and still.

-

They carried another inside.

Rolled me into place.

I shifted, with a thud, and settled.

My job was only to keep what was outside from coming inside.

To keep what was unclean inside.

The dark side of my face slept.

-

Night came.

The sun rose.

Crossed the sky - morning, noon.

Night came again.

-

Stillness on the inside.

-

The sun rose again.

My external face began to feel the first rays of morning light, my solid matter filled with heat.

-

But suddenly

-

What was dark became light.

-

What was still, moved.

-

The quietness was filled with the sounds of breathing.

My every sand-filled pore could feel the beating of a heart.

Slowly at first.

Gaining rhythm.

-

What was this?

-

"Holy, holy, holy"

-

I did not know I had a voice.

-

I was suddenly filled.

I felt myself shake.

Something inside me

was compelled to cry.

-

Dead men did not wake.

Dead men did not move.

Dead men did not speak.

-

But he was waking.

He was moving.

And he spoke.

With a voice, which had been quiet for three days.

-

A voice, no longer forsaken.

Filled with spirit.

And authority.

-

The I Am.

-

He reached out and touched my cold, dark side.

I thought I might shatter.

-

"It is time," he whispered.

"Holy, holy, holy" I whispered.

His hand lay flat on my grey, cold surface.

And I filled with overwhelming heat.

-

The tomb, which I guarded, suddenly was filled with light.

Light, very much unlike the light from the sun.

On the outside, the trees began to hum.

And the blades of grass whistled.

-

I was rolled away.

-

And the two worlds met again.

Two beings, dressed in radiant white, bowed on their knees as He stepped out into the sunlight. From their lips came the same words I had uttered.

I could not stop.

From the very depths of me, my most solid center, the words would not cease.

I would be whispering the words for the rest of eternity.

"Holy holy holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come..."

-

I watched Him walk away.

-

The two beings laid their hands on me and urged me to keep a secret.

"You will sing again," they assured me. "It is their turn now."

And I saw as the mourners came...

I longed to tell them.

"Do not cry. He has risen! Do not grieve. The Messiah has risen indeed!"

-

Holy, holy, holy...