Miracle At Bethany

Lost in the divine languor of deaths sleep Somewhere distant he heard the call of his name… Barely sensing the avidity of life’s gift Recalling the auger of the messiahs promise… He rebuked the plea under the swathe of deaths eye, Again the distant voice demanded of him Forcing him to recall all that he had once been… Beheld of the need to carry the word Forcing himself to his feet inside the dark sepulcher… Consciousness breached the boundaries of his mind, With a heavy breath he carped at the pain Racking through a body lost in the rigid shroud of death… With each aching footfall he moved toward his salvation, Again came the command, “Come forth” The cherubic beauty of the voice persuading him… Lazarus stepped into the light to live again.