Easter sonnet #4

Here is the last of these old poems of mine for Easter. Enjoy–and don’t forget to read the story I posted on Thursday, about what would happen to the Inklings if the Germans won WWII.

John’s Testimony

The whiteness of the cloth and of His skin,
His body’s after-image–piéta–
pressed cold and eerie on the daytime dark
when our fumbling fingers shrouded Him.
The heavy scent of myrrh and aloes drips
unholy incense in my memory:
it stank of death, dark brown and oily,
oozing past the fragrant linen strips.
That black afternoon brought Sabbath dread,
yet somehow in its aching mists, this dawn
brought us a strange desire to see the dead.
I went, I looked, I saw and understood:
the linen lay still wrapped as He had lain,
the little cloth no longer swathed His head.


About Sørina Higgins

Sørina Higgins is a writer, English teacher, and Inklings scholar. Sørina serves as Chair of the Department of Language and Literature at Signum University and teaches English at King's College and Lehigh Carbon Community College. She has published two books of poetry, "The Significance of Swans" and "Caduceus."

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