Your hands still have holes in them,
your feet are wet from the dew;
and with the memory of our names
undimmed by three days of death
you meet us,
risen from the grave.
We fail to understand how;
we puzzle at the reason why.
But you have come:
not to answer our questions,
but to show us your face.
YOU ARE ALIVE
AND THE WORLD CAN REJOICE AGAIN.
From: Stages on the Way