As you can see, I am a stone,
Though some might call me just a rock,
I am a stone, and worldwide known,
Though some will laugh, say what a crock!
I am, of course, anonymous
As far as people are concerned,
Else I would be autonomous
If I was known...by them discerned.
More than a witness on that day,
I was a part of what took place
Not far from where the brutes would slay
A man in horror, hard to face...
It was so cruel that just a stone
—A lifeless thing without a soul—
Could empathize with one, alone,
Nailed to a cross upon that knoll.
They took him down amidst the quake –
Mid-afternoon sun's rays erased,
Then I myself began to shake...
They rolled me, ready to be placed
Where I would fit that rockbound bowl
And then they sealed me concretely
To permanently close that hole,
Where he forever was to be.
I am a stone, a lifeless stone,
A sculpted stone moved everywhere,
But then I—sealed—felt quite alone
And knew forever would be there,
And yet, that night – a gentle glide...
I felt myself just rolled away;
Harsh voices shouted...none inside...
Since resurrection ruled the day.