Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 3-1-06

Here to link two different planes,
The Christ comes, with dark refrains;
Set about in promised writ,
This promise made, He sought to commit;
Itinerant preacher, for God’s kingdom;
Followed with miracles, proclaimed freedom;
His ways abashed the self-righteous,
Showing their works were all for dust;
In this, He offended the priestly reign,
And bought for Himself their dark disdain;

With illicit trial, they condemned Him,
Using lies, with truth mixed in,
For He was the Son of God,
The very One they thought they’d laud;
By Roman law, He was crucified;
Victorious He was, when He died,
For He showed Lucifer a fool;
Unrighteous deed became His tool;

Grief was then the tone of the day;
Two righteous men put Him away;
A borrowed tomb became His home;
Eleven men never felt so alone;

The cold, dank tomb held Him not;
Glory returned would be His lot;
With angel’s release, risen again;
Giving evidence to heaven’s win;
He showed Himself, to many, alive;
With His own joy, for us, to thrive;
Ascending to be at the Father’s right hand,
This High Priest’s work would alone stand;

Choose for yourself, whom to follow,
For follow you must, whether self or Apollo;
What you choose shows who you are;
To gnash in the dark, or shine as a star;

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