Each of them – alone
Cowering together in an upper room
Full of memories, emptied of hope
Each snarling smugly at women’s talk
Of dazzling angels and an empty tomb
Each believing only in their own unbelief
Each clinging to the other
As sheets to a fevered corpse gone cold
Eleven dead men less one buried
And still – He comes
“Peace Be With You!”
Wounded hands and wounded feet
A pierced heart but not a barb at unbelief
“Peace Be With You!”
His gift balm soothing blistered souls
Each knows themself – forgiven
He breathes on them, frees these captives
Sends them out into the lighted night
Each of them – together
—J. Michael Sparough, SJ is a retreat director, playwright, and poet at the Bellarmine Jesuit Retreat House, Barrington, IL