Christal Ann Rice Cooper

Christal Ann Rice Cooper
May Flowers 2017

Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Wayne Cooper Family Christmas 2014 Poem: "His First Tomb"

Christal Cooper  - Poem 192 Words


His First Tomb

I watched the Calvary  scene
where the doctor tells the priest

about a routine operation
he performed on a three-year-old child

who had healthy senses
until he received an overdosed anesthesia

waking up from his drug-induced nap
deaf, dumb, blind, paralyzed

wanting to scream, but can’t, and                       even if he could,
he wouldn’t hear his own screams.

wanting to shed tears, but can’t, and                 even if he could,
he wouldn’t feel his own tears.

Imagine the trauma, terror, and fear
that Spiritual Being experienced

knowing no limitations, no bounds,
only the Co-Creator of everything

until His Father folded and squeezed
His DNA Being into a fertilized egg

made from His own sperm and Mary’s own egg
entombed within the single cell zygote

growing within His mother’s womb,
the Creator now entombed by His creation

limited by time, space, and movement
except for a memory of who He is

God, now compromised of God-like qualities
No way of deleting the passage of time

Something He created, never was bound to
until squeezed into His mother’s uterus,

the size and shape of an inverted pear             His first tomb, not His last.







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