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.
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