Nine trays to be filled.
My duty this Sunday.
My church celebrates the risen Christ
With the bread and wine
Of remembrance.
Next came an Easter egg hunt
Open to all in our city.
We are a church with few children
Except on Easter morning
When young voices echo
Through our old building.
Finally, organ music swelled.
The most joyous service of the year had begun.
Christ is risen!
The minister proclaimed from the pulpit
As he opened with a prayer.
I waited for the joy
That comes on Easter,
But it was not there.
Had I been too caught up
In the mundane
To know this day's exultation?
Then the choir sang
"He Is Not Here!"
As that anthem echoed through sanctuary,
My scalp tingled.
I stood outside Jerusalem
Gazing at an empty tomb,
Knowing that the world had been transformed.
He is risen!
And we all rise with him.
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