A Poem from Michael Bailey | He is Risen Issue 11 | PAROUSIA Magazine


The Door

He wakes slowly.
His breath comes in a sigh
of wind.

He must rise
even though
the stone bed is a comfort.

Closing his eyes
dreams of lakes and fishing
and friends and laughter

Opening his eyes,
Time to get up

Shaking off the sheet,
a smell of waking flesh

It is another day.
With the same sunshine, same air
Waiting for him.
His feet touch the earth
It is different.
He is different.
He hears the shift in his breath
Different breath
A sweet breath
Slipping from that other place.

Today will be different
Today he will hear and see and feel and taste and smell
A day that will be new.
He just has to leave the door open.

The Golgotha Throne
and in death
He rules.

The rough wooden throne
a hollow grave.



Michael BaileyMichael Bailey is a retired English/Language Arts public school teacher. He worked for 25 years teaching grades 8-12 in the Georgia counties of Cobb and Gwinnett.
He currently live in Marietta, Georgia, United States.
A graduate of the University of West Georgia and Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, I served 12 years in pastoral and educational ministries.
His poems, columns, and short stores have appeared in the Yale Journal for Humanities in Medicine, THE POLISH-JEWISH HERITAGE FOUNDATION OF CANADA /newsletter, National Christian Reporter, The Christian Index, Journal of Secondary Gifted Education, Wellspring, and Resurgens, and The Chattahoochee Review.


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