The Day After
The flourishing fanfares
Have finished
The heavenly hymns
Have ended
The powerful preaching
Is put aside
And the people
Get back to being
Whoever they were
Before the Easter rush.
Church is deathly quiet
On the day after.
The pews are vacantly empty
The sanctuary is somberly silent.
A suffocating stillness
Pervades the sacred space,
Like that of a forgotten tomb
Abandoned by
Its owners.
Yesterday,
The Resurrection
Was wildly evident
As many voices
Sang the songs
And proclaimed
The ancient words,
“Christ is Risen!”
“He is Risen indeed!”
On the day after,
Even if a lone voice
Defiantly declares
In a mighty clamor,
“Christ is Risen!”
Only the creaking
Wooden ceiling
Repeatedly squeaks
A feeble reply;
“Is he? Is he? Is he?”
On the day
After Easter,
Church world is dead,
But the Promised One is waiting. © John Stuart 2014
