A Sunday Morning

A Sunday Morning A small group of women slowly approach a tomb hewed from a local hill. A bright rising sun begins to peek over the horizon as the first day of the new week dawns. The Roman soldiers lay all about the entrance in different poses as if asleep. The mighty stone that blocked the small entrance to the hole of death is rolled away. The women approach and look inside. The rock bed where He lay is empty save for the blood-stained shroud. At the head and foot sit two men garbed in white as if guarding the shroud. He is not here. The women gasp as one to see the empty rock bed and they wonder what next.