Sunday, the Sabbath.
There was magic in the air that day.
A blessed corpse in need of bathing.
To relieve the indignity of such uncaring death.
They came, the ladies in attendance.
To dress his naked form in myrrh.
To purify and bless his putrid moments.

All hail, bow in great respect.
The stone had moved, the cadaver left.
Not a message to be found.
His body gone from underground.
In promises of life eternal.
He had given his blessings.
After death in resurrection, the lord of love and life.
Met his troubled brother James.
Dear lady, Mary Magdalen to him did speak.
He bade her not to touch him.
For his body was so weak.
The Father of Jesus, was waiting, to save the souls of mortal men.
Jesus waited silent for the call.
Our Holy Jesus.
Lord of all.
(c) Livvi