Today is a day to tell disease it cannot claim us
to tell oppressors to back down
to tell violence that its hand is weakening.
Today is a day to tell depression that its grip must slaken.
And disease will scoff, and oppressors will mock.
Violence will laugh wickedly,
while depression attempts to settle in.
And they all think they can claim their positions permanently.
But this is our Friday. Good Friday.
When the earth shakes and the curtain tears
and the sky goes black and everything is the worst it has ever been,
but the best we’ve ever known is just 72 hours away.