There was a heartbeat, heard only by God and by rejoicing angels and insects in the darkness of a death-cave. Before the sun’s rising, there was a heartbeat and resurrected life.

Sabbath ended with Sunday’s breaking light and on a dirt path leading to a tomb the steps of three women scattered dust, causing the earth to beat with urgency.

There was a rhythm to the morning felt only by God, and rejoicing angels, and spiders and butterflies, and those that sensed such things. The work of wrapping the body of a Savior needed doing but the body was gone.

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