over the screen,
wavering, wondering
how I came to this place,
time and breath caught
like a stunned fish
in a net.
Once I touch
the fragile glass,
time will come alive
and I will be unleashed
on the world, born anew
in a hundred places,
ready or not.
I wonder if that's how Jesus
felt in the tomb,
his hand hovering
over the smooth stone?
One push,
and his image belonged to him
no more.
Anne Richter+
Holy Week 2020
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