Get Up, Little Girl

by joanabagano


Are you there

Bones against skin

Skin against the sun

I am knocking on the glass pane above you

I can feel the warmth from your lips


The words you once said

Were cold

Ice, they shattered on the ground

You thought you could no longer


So you lay there

Eyes, scanned

Your being

Minds, thought

You were dead

You could no longer


Whispers surrounded your body

Encased you in a coffin

In a close-fitting surround

Until you could not breathe

They were ready

To bury you.

He made His way

Through the mocking crowd

His feet heavy on the ground

Voice thundering

“Don’t listen to them, trust me.”

Hey —

You are there

Get up, little girl

You are only sleeping

Toss the covers aside

Wake up, little girl

Breakfast waits

You can still


He permitted no one to go in with him except Peter, James, and John. They entered the leader’s house and pushed their way through the gossips looking for a story and neighbors bringing in casseroles. Jesus was abrupt: “Why all this busybody grief and gossip? This child isn’t dead; she’s sleeping.” Provoked to sarcasm, they told him he didn’t know what he was talking about.

But when he had sent them all out, he took the child’s father and mother, along with his companions, and entered the child’s room. He clasped the girl’s hand and said, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, get up.” At that, she was up and walking around! This girl was twelve years of age. They, of course, were all beside themselves with joy. He gave them strict orders that no one was to know what had taken place in that room. Then he said, “Give her something to eat.”

Mark 5:34-43, The Message