We vigil the night before Easter,
Entering sanctuary in silent darkness—
Till spark meets candlewick and
Passed from one taper
Flames grow strong above candles held steady,
And collective glow pushes back the gloom.
We wait in already-but-not-yet time,
Anticipating Resurrection daybreak,
Still grieving in the night of death.
This greater reality is
Held small in my hand—
The flame of glory
Rising from wax,
Wick and wax,
Flame and tears,
Glory and sorrow,
Rise and fall—
Already and not yet.
Weeping endures for the night
But joy comes in the morning