In Jerusalem, they shuddered and hid behind a locked door
The evening of the first day’s week—stricken by their dear friend’s gore.
Someone pounded, pounded, pounded, and one shaking, turned the key
And two burst in, flailing their arms. One got down on bended knee:
“The Lord rose and walked toward Emmaus with Cleopas and me!”
They stared and one beat at his breast. “I saw the stone pushed aside.
The head cloth was folded, and the linin bloody from His side.”
Catching their breath, too dazed to speak, they pondered in candlelight.
“Peace be to you!” Their hearts fixed still. One swooned at this ghostly sight.
“Do you have anything to eat?” He saw fish and took a bite.
For forty days and forty nights He opened their childlike minds
To what the Father promised, and men’s wily words, which blinds.
“Do you love me?” He asked the son of John. “Yes Lord, you know I love you.”
Jesus said “Feed my lambs,” which startled this Galilean Jew.
“Lord, you know all things,” Peter replied, “you know my love is true.”