Poetry

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The empty tomb spoke of fullness,
Wholeness, forgiveness and wellness;
That the word of God must come to pass;
All the glee of demons turned into farce.

Despair, disappointment and commotion,
Should rather mean an appointment and elation.
The angel had come to roll away the stone.
Because the grave could not hold the Son.

‘Who is trying to increase our grief, rub it in'?
They had thrown what they heard, into the bin.
Fear and uncertainty so ruled their hearts,
Thinking, 'He ended soon after a great start'.

As they took cover behind closed doors,
They were in tears, on all fours, on the floor.
And though they were in great grief, despair,
They had every reason for a mammoth cheer.

He held the keys of death and hell;
His power, visible for all to tell.
Principalities, powers, had to bow
Defying all their wisdom and know-how.

The First-Born from the dead was now alive,
Giving to all who came, abundant life.
He pleads His blood before His Father
For you, for me, for all contrite sinners.

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