Easter Monday

It was three days since he was crucified, Hope died, convinced my Messiah lied. Imagine you spend three nice years of your life, To see it end in tears, dice, and human sacrifice. Our vision of a new era and our decision to follow him - an error. So we made tracks, on the way back home, to stay, in Emmaus. Sometimes the wisest thing to do is leave When you’re aggrieved for what you believe, When your hope to see people redeemed is demeaned. How can you remain where there is so much pain? What if the Kingdom’s not come?! What if Jesus is dead dead. What if Caesar will reign in terror? Perpetual horror. You’re a spiritual refugee Escaping, facing uncertainty, and danger. THEN ENTERS A STRANGER. “What are you guys discussing?” I try brushing it aside. Then I’m gushing wide, start rushing to tell him of Jesus’ crushing, How he died. Now I’m blushing red wine, Even mention how the women said he’s fine - risen. After being dead for certain. Closed curtains. He’s curt and says, “He rose like Moses wrote, And the prophets spoke.” Then he went off it, rolled through the scrolls as we strolled, Showed why the King endured the insanity of suffering, To bring a pure God and humanity together like cufflinks. Suddenly, we were on the brink of the village, I couldn’t help but think he was the realist. Concerned we had more to learn Before he could leave, I turned to say, “Please, look what time of day it is, stay with us in Emmaus.” Though it was we who had need, He agreed. As we reclined at the dining table, We would find our minds became stable To finally recognize the truth disguised. It wasn’t in what he spoke or said, but when he broke the bread our eyes realigned. Our desire reawakened a refining fire, We started discerning, Though disconcerting to take in, We were never forsaken, The whole time our hearts were burning.