It is grasped as easily as a gust of wind.

It comforts like the snuggle of a colic-y baby.

It is exposed in a lover’s embrace.

And with voices raised, it is buried 6 feet under fury’s wrath.

.

The need of the hour is resurrection.

Not to fly away.

Not some sad morning when this life is over.

Now,

.

incarnated among us is the Favor of God.

Why does favor look like that?

Disfigured, disjointed, parched, hopeful.

.

Secure as flesh pounded nails.

Penetrating as thorns through matted hair.

Smiling like lashes viciously striped.

Lavished like blood saturated soil.

Singing staccato notes in suffocation.

Stripped of pretense like a king on a cross.

.

Disoriented

Soul-Gripped

Elated

Intoxicated

Joyful

Incomprehensible

.

Uncontrollable laughter

.

When the stone was rolled away

And the Favor of God rose.

As the morning sun breaks the dawn

He breaks our hearts.

.

Greetings, you who are highly favored.