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Sunday, 8 April 2012

An Easter Poem

I'm not much of a poet, but this sort of 'happened' as I considered the Easter Passion Gospel ...

Taken down from the cross;
Your body broken.
Laid in a tomb, not yet prepared,
A stone laid to seal it
And guards posted there.
Undisturbed 'til third day,
Then terror and fright
Seized the watchers who fled
As the stone rolled aside
To reveal you’d arisen.
The women who came
To render observance
Were dismayed to discover
The tomb open and bare,
‘Til Mary encountered you
Fresh and revived
But none of them knew you
As you stood there.
  
‘Touch me not!
I’m not ready’
Mary was told;
Go, tell my brothers
I will find them at home.
At Emmaus some knew you
In the breaking of Bread
But others, they doubted
Until they could touch
The wounds and the hands
Of You whom they loved.
In Jerusalem many who saw 
Were afraid, asking,
We saw him die, how can this be?
The Sanhedrin declared 
This is fraud; can’t you see?
His friends have hidden Him
And now try to deceive.
But this is the mystery!
The grave clothes remained
No grave robbers here!
The soldiers had run,
So what did they see?
A miracle so awesome
They fled it in fear,
But they, like the others
Are invited to share,
The miracle of Easter
The Life beyond care.
Death, where is thy sting, oh grave where is thy Victory? 1 Cor 15: 55

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