In poetry form -- a freewrite:
Swirls of gold
light the darkened room,
flickering against white walls.
Folding my hands properly,
my gaze lights on
an image, colorful against the plain wall.
Pure white robes flowing about Him,
He descends into Hades,
grasps the hands of the
first Man and first Woman
with saving Grace.
God's Creation, so sinful
so selfish, so blind --
rescued by Him who
is, was, and ever will be
pure, selfless, and perfect.
The relief etches into Adam and Eve's faces
as He reaches down to them in their despair,
as He destroys the gates of hell and
crushes Death under His feet --
determination folds His face as He draws them upward
into light and hope.
And relief pours into me
as I, this cracked, empty vessel
with broken handle and crazed enamel
am filled with His presence
in the golden light of a single candle.