Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Resurrection transforms
Every fiber of one’s being,
Even if it means being
Beaten to death for social justice.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, July 5, 2026.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: July 5th, 2026 05:06
- Comment from author about the poem: An acrostic Scorched Sunday poem. Part of my Scorched Strays collection. Resurrection does not erase the cost of discipleship...it transforms the meaning of sacrifice. This poem reflects on the quiet courage to stand for justice, even when faithfulness demands everything. Some bodies are broken. The witness endures.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 32
- Users favorite of this poem: GenXer Sharon 🙏🍀, Friendship, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
- In collections: Scorched Strays.
Offline)
Comments6
Sometimes it's so curious how history folds into itself as justice unfolds. And without this poem James Reeb would continue to be a lesser known light in the aftermath of the 1965 Bloody Sunday. 🙏🕊️(And it isn't just beer spelt backwards)
arqios, this means a lot, my friend. You're right about Reeb, his story shouldn't stay in the shadow of the bigger names. Discipleship costing everything isn't abstract, it's people like him. Could not agree more with you! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
A wonderful poem of giving all, which is what is required to resurrect for until one lays down the old (body or beliefs) no new can arise. Raising the old creates a zombie it takes the fire of destruction of the old to raise a phoenix. The symbolism of Christ required crucifixion and death for there to be a resurrection. All martyrs must die literally or metaphorically to be one. Nicely written my friend
Beautifully put, my friend. You're right, resurrection isn't resuscitation, it demands the old actually die first, body or belief, or what rises is just a zombie wearing the old shape. Thank you for articulating that so clearly, Soren. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
You are very welcome my friend.
all martyrs live on. great write
Amen. Norman, that line stays with me, my friend...all martyrs live on. Short, but it carries the whole weight of the poem.🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
most welcome my friend
Powerful and poignant.
Thank you, Thomas! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Good write T. That'll be 'fibre' (fib-ree) in the UK. Every fibre of Popeye filled with spinach! lol.
Orchi, my friend, "fibre" duly noted, UK style. Rhymes with "frisbee" right? 👌😂 And you're right, every fibre of Popeye is spinach-soaked chaos at this point...ah-gah-gah-gah-glug-glug all. Between him and Ol' Tomás losing socks to Obi-Wan in light saber duels, this poem's getting more company than I expected. Cheers, my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
A path one walks alone. To lay one’s life down. A beautiful write.
Sharon, thank you, my friend. You named it exactly, a path walked alone, a life laid down. That's the cost this poem is sitting with, and I'm grateful you felt it that clearly. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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