i’m not yet ready
for any hallelujahs.
i am preparing
for burial.
we are still
entombed.
we hold our breath.
there are still songs
but they hold
no celebration.
each day is
always a day of
lamentation
or watchful
expectation.
we are told
good tidings
proclaimed
to the dead.
we bring our
offerings,
prepare
our ways.
take time
for blessing,
baskets full:
bread, eggs,
lamb, salt.
the floors
covered:
laurel leaves,
flower petals.
our hands empty.
and then we wait.
victory today
though not yet
risen.
