Sunday, April 8, 2012

A poem for Easter.

Dripping life drops
The unrecognized hero
Cries His bitter tears
Alone.
Stabbed to the heart
By the sharpest spark
Of betrayal,
He sweats
Great drops of blood.
They splash to the garden floor
As a foreshadowing glimpse of reality.
The traitor steps in
And leaves a kiss
Upon His cheek
And sulkingly leaves
To dispose of himself
In the most unheroic of ways.
Whilst the unrecognized hero
Gives Himself
With quiet resolution
 To the task ahead.

After the garden
Comes the hill.
Golgotha,
Calvary,
A murder of Divine proportions
The greatest massacre of history.
Forsaken and broken,
For the hope set before Him
He endured.

After the hill,
Comes the tomb.
The resting place of immensity
Contained in a cave.
But today,
The rays of life
Shone again
As the Son itself was loosed from darkness,
Bringing victory to His people,
And a refuge from life's harshness.

After the tomb,
Comes life. 

4 comments:

  1. i'm glad he didn't stay in that grave...happy easter to you...we have big reason for being joyful

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  2. I like this poem. And yes, I agree, after the tomb comes life. He has risen!

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  3. took me a moment to catch on but a lovely retelling of the days leading up to easter...which in turn becomes the most victorious...smiles...happy belated easter...

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  4. A beautiful retelling of the Easter story!

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