Resurrection
Amos Wilson (January 19,
2014)
The
women came with oils sweet,
The
came with steady, mourning feet,
They
reached the tomb, and stop and quake,
At
seismic strength rocks rend and brake.
The
Roman soldiers joked and laughed,
Until
the crack – like thunder clashed.
Their
weapons fall, light blinds their eyes,
They
crash to ground as if they die.
Two
angles sped, from heaven sent,
A rich
man’s tomb their object bent;
A
stone to move, a cohort smite,
And to
women to give a message bright,
Then
in the path the savior stood,
To see
the message understood,
To see
the women grasp his feet,
And
desperately his grace entreat.
The
women run their fear is gone,
They –
joyous – hurry, scurry home.
The
soldiers stand, their knees like jelly,
Celestial
sights knotted their belly,
The
women burst into the upper-room,
And
bid the disciples come, yea, come!
Good
news they spread, “The Christ is risen!”
“His
word is true,” Our sins forgiven!
The
soldiers tell their guilty lie,
Each
cautious, fearful, lest he die.
The
priest are also sore perplexed,
They
bought this lie, this false pretext.
And
where was Jesus? Wonder you,
Walking
to Emmaus with other two?
No
doubt he cured the weaknesses,
Of His
five hundred witnesses.
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