Poem for Easter Sunday
By John Dennison

Self-made, perhaps; definitely wealthy,
with a seat on the council, and a plot set aside on the hill;
but when it came to it, Joseph of Arimathea

could offer only a freshly dug hole:
his tomb, his anticipated end
now made the corpse-house of all hope.

The dark. The stone. Poor gifts for a friend
above all friends. And yet, it turns out, so right:
all matter sings, the dark itself upends

to welcome in the flesh the Light of Light,
this breathing the full-bodied house of hope,
making a throne-room of the rich man’s empty slot.

Sing to yourself; pile your wealth in a heap
and burn it and you along with it; but you cannot
out-give the Giver. For he has made this ripe

world his love’s language, the manger his cot.

For Reflection

Readings:
Psalm 118:1–2, 14–24
Acts 10:34–43 or Jeremiah 31:1–6
Colossians 3:1–4 or Acts 10:34–43
John 20:1–18 or Matthew 28:1–10

Collect:
Glorious Lord of Life,
we praise you,
that by the mighty resurrection of your Son,
you have delivered us from sin and death
and made your whole creation new;
grant that we who celebrate with joy
Christ’s rising from the dead,
may be raised from the death of sin
to the life of righteousness;
for he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God for ever.
Amen.

Question:
This is a day of celebration for us who have received new life! How might you remember and celebrate this day and feast with those around you?