Cradled within the womb of death, scripture beats defiant.
Lean in, to discern hope’s unfolding;
multiplying cells of truth over pregnant centuries. Giving
breath to us, too often, dragged to the grave.
Soothing empty arms,
with strong proof of life after life.
So soft, it is thunder in the vast
noise of doubt’s marketplace.
backbone to bow
to no man.
Resolving who knit whom together.
Renewing covenant with an empty
grief—for but a while.