Holy Saturday Carved into rock the tomb stood waiting, the body wrapped in linen tight with spices; according to Jewish law. A stone rolled before the entrance, within only darkness, silence, that only death can bring, the interior cold the body alone in its inner nothingness The void, the thing feared most, to drop in never to be seen again, gone, leaving only an interior emptiness for those left behind. In the beginning light, heat death for the universe in the end; so for the body, what was once alive now without heat only cold remaining, lifeless. All that we love ends, our works, art, our loved ones, friends, civilizations, brought to absurdity because of this, the great crumbling, entropy, flowers of the field, the whole universe slowly fading into it’s ending, length of time does not matter for in the end nothing. So within silence, only cold and deep darkness for company, it is just a tomb after all, yet a guard placed before its entrance, which gives us pause why a guard at the tomb(?), perhaps, just perhaps, we need to wait in the silence and see.
