Dawn alone stood witness
when the weighty stone
was heaved aside.
Then came May Magdalene--
crept in,
stumbled out again,
her stare vacant
as the grave,
her loved one missing.
No wonder tears flooded
the banks of her eyes.
"Why do you weep, child?"
a stranger whispered--
the gardener, she thought.
She struggles for air,
wove her worry
into words,
"Sir, tell me
if you know where
they have laid him."
He wrinkled his
thorn pierced brow
and sighed,
"Dearest Mary."
She knew that voice,
those eyes.
"Master?"
Is it you?"
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