The Garden
The breaking sunlight of the day,
spilt over mountain, cut through haze,
and bounced across the flowers’ bloom
to warm the rocks of Jesus’ Tomb
That peaceful morning’s quiet light,
had followed restless, violent nights,
of earthquakes, fear, and lightning’s fire,
Of nature’s God unleashing ire,
Now Heaven’s hand would end the night,
From garden, now, would spring its light!
The Roman guards had run away,
When Angel hands their strength displayed-
Removing stone from tomb once sealed,
Unveiling Power there concealed,
The Garden’s Peace, now bathed in light!
rejoicing Angels at the sight!
Of Risen Lord! In perfect form!
Resurrected from the storm
of Death and sorrow’s loneliness,
With Peace, with Hope, and Righteousness!
The Son of God, The Prince of Peace,
To whom we bow on bended knee,
God’s brightest light, and Eldest Son,
has Darkest Night and Tomb o’ercome,
That we, through Him, may live again!
and shed our shackles placed by sin!
To once again, with tear-streamed face,
Enjoy our Father’s warm embrace.
Monday April 6, 2015
anthology78 