Sinus Rhythm
O. Kris Widmer
Begun October 11, 2016 Published: October 11, 2016
Three
Word Wednesday #501
Three
Required Words - Radiance, Rasp, Rhythm
Based on the events recorded in the
Gospel of John, Chapter Eleven.
Radiance, noun: joy, elation, jubilance,
ecstasy, euphoria, happiness, delight, pleasure.
Rasp, verb: croak, say hoarsely.
Rhythm, noun: beat, cadence, tempo, pulse,
throb, cadence, tempo.
Radiance is missing
from their
little house.
It has been
waning quickly
for the past
two weeks;
likely the
entire month.
Well anyhow,
certainly for the past 4 days.
The one whom
they loved;
the man of the
house,
the bread
winner,
the bread
eater,
is very ill.
The hot and
cold fomentations
bring no
relief: His nose foams in fever.
The warm tea (with
honey, lemon)
the poultices
of power powder,
provide no
improvement.
After the
doctor suggests
that their best
and final option is “God”,
They send
messages to the one
they are sure
God sent.
They send
messages - more than one.
Sick.
Really
Sick!
Critical!
We have
anointed him!
You are our
only hope!
Sooner rather
than later!
A.S.A.P.!
What’s keeping
you!
The patient moans
in his delirium,
pulls at the
sheets.
His suffering leaves
him at last,
along with his
last breath.
His sibling
sisters
are left with only
their hot tears
and cold stares;
as they wash
his cooling corpse,
wrapping it in
ripped muslin.
He did NOT
come.
Perhaps they
figured the Master owed them.
After all, He
had crashed on their couch,
his
fish-mongering entourage had slept
here and there
and everywhere.
Had they not
filled their hungry bellies
more than once
at their expense!
Yes. Oh yes they had!
And they were
not even that far away!
Lots of the
Jerusalem Jews had come,
offering their
condolences,
bringing delicious
dishes of comfort food.
Would it have
been so hard for Him
to have
squeezed them in?
No. It wouldn’t have!
He whom their
brother loved
(and He whom
they also loved)
finally
arrives,
twelve adherents
trailing.
But too late!
The older sis speaks,
the rasp of regret;
a concise
critique
of His terrible
tardiness.
Shrill, short
accusatory syllables
spill out of
her pursed lips.
“What…kept…you?
We…needed…you!
If…you…had…been…here,
My…brother…would…not…have…died!”
The younger
sister says the same,
only softer, with
less spit
Too
Little. Too Late.
“Take me to his
tomb.” says He.
He has no
intent
and is not
content
to lay a round
wreath of grief.
He lingers
there,
a stones throw
away
from the stone they
rolled
to keep men and
beasts out
and the malodors
in.
Now it is his turn
to cry.
He weeps.
Sobs shake his
shoulders.
He loved him
too!
The watching multitude
murmurs.
The blind leave
Him seeing.
The deaf leave
Him hearing.
The mute leave
Him singing.
The lame leave
Him dancing.
The leper leave
Him rejoicing.
The outcast leave
Him belonging.
Certainly He
could have kept this man -
their brother -
from dying.
The Master sops
his sorrows
on his sleeves
and then begins shouting.
“Take away the
Stone!”
“Did I not say “If
you believed
you would see the glory of God!”
“Father, I’m
glad you have heard me.
“I say this
here for the murmurs…
so they may know You sent me.”
“Eleazar of
Bethany,
(His mamma used
that name too to give orders!)
Come Forth!”
And…he…did!
Dead
man…shuffling!
Dead
man…thinking!
Dead
man…breathing!
Dead
man…hearing!
Dead
man…calling…
“Lep meff oup ov dis!”
One more
laughing shout!
“Take off the
grave cloths and let him go!”
Sisters…
Since He was
here…
Your brother
is alive.
Crowd…
Certainly this
man
kept that man -
their brother,
your friend
- from staying dead.
Froth…gone!
Rigor…gone!
Stench…gone!
Death…gone!
Tears…gone!
Stares…still
there…only now
the sisters stare in joyful
admiration
The dearly
departed
then strides
outside
into the sun’s
warmth,
trailing linen
ribbons,
his heart in a new
normal sinus rhythm.
