Tag Archives: Silence

The Dance Of Sorrow

The Dance of Sorrow

I find you
in that place we like to go,
where there’s no one else;
just us and nothing else.

I see your silhouette
there in the dark;
in the silence and the dark,
and you move
in the silence of the dark.

You say my name;
Your voice is music.
In the silence
and the dark
your beauty sings.

You are the light
in the silence and the dark,
and somehow I’m empty.

You ask me to stay
in the silence and the dark,
and I whisper;
I scream out your name.

I see you move;
you dance
in the dance of sorrow,
and you whisper.

“Will you look?”
You say
“Will you look and see
my heart that hurts;
that loves so much
and is so little loved?”

I see your beauty;
your dance:
the dance of sorrow.

What Did It Sound Like?

Ever since Easter I’ve been wondering off and on what Jesus’ resurrection sounded like, and how it might be rendered musically. I realized as I was praying a few minutes ago that I’m thinking about it too much, or maybe just too intellectually. There are, doubtless, many things no one can know about what happened at the tomb right when it happened, but certain things can be known, or at least, could be plausible.

There were soldiers stationed there overnight. What I imagine is a couple of comrades in arms muttering to each other because they were tired. With a sigh of relief, they see the dawn slowly approaching. It’s very quiet because it’s so early and because they wouldn’t have the noise of the city that we’re used to. It would be nearly, if not completely silent. Then the sun would come over the horizon, and they would hear something different.

They would be confused by the sound of powerful wings like nothing they had heard before. Then, maybe they would and maybe they wouldn’t see the angel, but something strange would happen. They would yell and undoubtedly, run away, maybe to tell someone, maybe to hide, or maybe just to try and rationalize what was happening and try to convince each other that they were not crazy.

The Angel would then role away the stone, revealing the entrance to the tomb. I don’t know what angels sound like or look like, but I do know what large stones being rolled on the ground sounds like. It would be reasonably loud, especially if it were pushed away with force, which it probably was. The light would flood into a previously pitch dark space, and Jesus would push away the shroud, take a breath, know what had happened, and step outside. Maybe he would talk to the angel, and maybe not. Maybe he left instructions for the angel to tell the women what to say when they came and found the tomb empty.

There are a lot of maybe’s in there. There’s ultimately too much I don’t know. Somehow, though, I just want the whole thing to be louder. I want to know what happened to the soldiers. I’ve never really thought about them before. To me, they’ve never really been an important part of the story. Thinking about it, though, to Jesus, everyone is an important part of the story. He knew who those soldiers were. He cared about them. Maybe at some point those same soldiers came to know Jesus through his Apostles. Then again, maybe not, but I don’t think they would have been unaffected by what happened. I guess this went in a different direction than I was intending, but it’s interesting to think about.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!