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Week’s First Day

Poem

This virgin chamber
like rock-hollowed stable
is a briefly borrowed room.
The table chisled
to lay linen-wrapped dead
today becomes a birthing bed.
Earth travails. A shudder
breaks sealed silence
of womb-dark tomb.
Like lightning attending angels
split death’s gloom
to witness this Resurrection morn—
the cavern’s mouth is opened.
The triumphant King is born!

About the Author

issue cover
BYU Studies 41:3
ISSN 2837-004x (Online)
ISSN 2837-0031 (Print)