Sunday, February 8, 2015

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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