He breathes again.
The lungs collapsed by suffocating sorrow
Fill again with fragrant air.
The eyes still shut by Friday’s tears
Now flicker as the retinas
Anticipate the brilliant light that once was His.
And somewhere deep within,
This Man of Sorrows fully smiles
With hope delayed, now irrepressible.
All things are finished.
All things have just begun.
For one delicious moment,
Creation’s sovereign pauses, lingers,
Savoring the joy now rising in His mind.
Uncounted millions will awake
Some warm, spring resurrection morn—
Convinced of love, inhaling light—
And stepping out to life unbound.
He who prophesied
That we will rise
Now gathers lilies of His labor.
And He is satisfied.
Christ breathes again.
And so do we.
And so will we.
—Bill Knott