I pass by it everyday

I pass by it everyday

It is near where I pray

I pass by it everyday

To go about my day

I pass by it everyday

The grave where I will lay

I pass by it everyday

As it waits for me to turn to clay

But ever since He walked out of

what I pass by everyday

The tomb

has become for me

a womb

I will be birthed out of someday

—

Reflections on Joseph of Arimathea