I have gone down into the tomb.
It is cold but surprisingly light inside.
I have taken off my shoes and
Now press my bare feet into
The damp rock.
Inside, everything is white and bare.
Not the kind of white that
Speaks of glory or resurrection,
It is more like the white of surrender.
Totally empty, devoid of feeling,
I, myself, feel emptied out.
Hollow, like a husk.
My seed, my lifeblood has fallen
On rocky ground and
I have nothing left to give.
And so, for a time, this tomb
This shimmering, mysterious curtain
That laps the shores of life and death
Is not an unpleasant home.