The Gospel of Lazarus
Wouldn’t it be great to talk to Lazarus,
To get to hear from him, what he felt,
What it feels like to die, to fall headlong
Into the abyss, and be raised from it,
To be called from his tomb, his shroud,
The stink of his own decay, to come out,
And live. What would life be like for him?
Wouldn’t it be great to know, if only
He’d been asked, or followed, we’d know,
And we’d be invited into the tomb, and out
Again, born a second time, to follow
The shepherd and eat the bread of life.
If he’d written a gospel, what would it say?