First Day – by Scott Eagan


F
IRST DAY
From midnight
on
the prospect of
sun rising
first day in
the week, a sleeping
Savior prepares
to open his eyes.
Second Adam
touched by the Father’s
helping hand,
who is speaking silently the invitation
‘Wake, come
cross the frontier.’
Sitting up,
stars far above, overhead
points of light
in eon’s black dome
deep in the
tomb, the day has already dawned
new flower
unfolding on a bed of old dreams
casting off the
slumber of time
sparking a new
order hidden in stone
sharp ray of
light slicing the bonds.
Six days we
work and worry
they slide into
the hope, the incredulity
beyond our
control, a Root splitting rock
Seedling
transforming its old shell
revelation has
become charged with energy
Sunday step
into the cradle of truth
and the opening
rhyme of resurrection.
Scott Eagan
March 10, 2019

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