Before the rising of the sun,
the ointment-bearing women
hastened to anoint the sun
that had disappeared for a while
into the darkness of the tomb,
though it existed before
the sun itself came into being.
These holy women were seeking him
as one would seek the very light of day,
and, as they walked along, they spoke of what they were about to do:
Come, let us hurry! Let us anoint the very source of life as he lies in the grave,
that very one who raised up Adam.
Yes, let us hurry!
We shall bring him a gift of myrrh
and adore him
as once the wise men did,
for, as then he lay wrapped in swaddling clothes,
he now lies wrapped in a burial shroud.
Then, we shall tearfully entreat him:
Rise up, master,
for you alone provide
the grace of resurrection for the fallen!
(Ikos of Paschal Matins, New Skete Monastery)