She is my sister and she is luminous.
I have eyes-wide-open watched as the grave opened.
I was witness
as the rock was slowly pried open
and the white putrid cloth,
was unwrapped one slow turn after another.
Jesus called forceful and she woke up
out of sin-wracked pain
and the rock was rolled away
and His voice,
O HIS VOICE,
demanding the Breath to spark life again:
“She will be free.”
So I celebrate this glowing
And he does too, this man who saw Glory coming out of her eyes
and we dance side by side because
joy is celebrating the God-reflected.
Maya Angelou wrote in a memoir a scene
where women from all over Africa were separated from men
and the dancing
o the dancing over each…
celebrating the personal miracle of
wide hips swinging,
skinny arms pulsing strong and tall legs jumping straight powerful arrows-
recognising beauty and God-molded Life in different vases.
beat spurring praise,
celebrating that this THIS Beautiful one
is the handiwork, the Glory of God prism-ing out.
Light refracting in color.
She is my sister and this weekend she will be married and
I will dance over her again,
joy heavy with the miracle of this new story.