He’s home —
continents away
from where he was,
where we are
this day.
Is he home?
Has he outlived;
have we outlived
our stay
or do we
sleep and then arise
on the third day
refreshed to the
rocky cliffs and yesterday’s
blasting waves
and start all over
again
as we start the
count down
to the day we
sweep the dirty
dust away
from the tomb?