Easter poem

THE STONE ROLLED BACK

Such stones as this -

shaped, rounded, massive -

are the boundary stones

between life and death;

holding at bay the sight

and stench of corruption.

In the garden, trees and flowers

reach up in the light,

bowing in the breeze;

life budding and blooming,

wakened by Spring.

Just as a grass blade

pushes through tarmac

with the strength of weakness,

so this stone -

beyond women’s power to move -

rolls at the touch of an angel’s finger

as life invades

the dark night of the tomb:

and Christ, Jesus, man, God, is alive

and death is dead

and the stone rolled back for ever.