A Poem Inspired by Luke 24:6-7
Before the blush of morning crowned the skies,
When silent shadows wrapped the garden deep,
There walked with burdened hearts and tear-filled eyes
The souls who came their final watch to keep.
They sought the place where sorrow held its throne,
Where death had sealed its triumph with a stone.
The olive branches stirred beneath the breeze,
The eastern heavens glimmered pale with light;
Creation waited in expectant peace,
As darkness lingered through its final night.
The earth itself seemed hushed in sacred awe,
Before the wonder mortal eyes would draw.
No mournful anthem greeted those who came,
No voice of grief arose from out the grave;
Instead there burned a bright celestial flame,
Where heaven's messenger proclaimed the Brave.
"The Living One is not among the dead;
The Lord has risen, just as He had said."
The words rang forth like bells through ages vast,
Awakening hope where every hope had died;
They gathered every promise from the past,
And proved the truth the Savior testified.
No empty dream, no fleeting, fragile breath,
But life victorious over sin and death.
Remember, cried the herald clothed in white,
Recall the words once spoken in Galilee;
Though clouds had veiled them in the darkest night,
Their dawn had come for all the world to see.
The Son of Man had walked the chosen way,
Foretold before the first created day.
Delivered to the hands of sinful men,
Rejected by the hearts He came to save,
He bore the weight of all our guilt, and then
Was laid in silence in a borrowed grave.
The nails were real, the piercing spear was true,
The crimson stream of mercy freely flew.
The rugged cross stood dark against the sky,
Its timber stained with Love's most costly price;
The spotless Lamb was lifted up to die,
The perfect and eternal sacrifice.
The veil was torn; the earth beneath Him shook;
The Judge of all fulfilled redemption's book.
Yet death, though armed with all its ancient might,
Could never chain the Author of all breath;
The Prince of Life arose with morning's light,
The Conqueror who shattered captive death.
Its iron gates gave way before His tread,
For death itself was numbered with the dead.
The stone was rolled not to release the King,
For walls nor graves His glory could confine;
It stood aside that every heart might sing,
And every eye behold the grand design.
The empty tomb became the witness sure
That every promise spoken shall endure.
O blessed memory heaven bids us keep,
Remember all the Master once declared.
Though faith may falter, though the night seems deep,
His every word is faithfully prepared.
What God has spoken never fades away;
His truth outlives the ending of the day.
The prophets saw afar this holy hour,
Though dimly through the centuries they gazed;
They sang of One anointed full of power,
Whose triumph would leave endless voices raised.
The Seed once promised bruised the serpent's head,
By rising glorious from among the dead.
The angels watched the Father's purpose stand,
A mystery unfolding through the years;
The scars still marked the Savior's pierced hands,
Yet now they shone beyond all pain and tears.
Those wounds became the trophies of His grace,
The everlasting joy of every race.
Let every fearful pilgrim lift his eyes,
When valleys darken every earthly way;
The risen Christ has conquered every prize
That death imagined it could steal away.
The grave no longer speaks the final word,
For life is found within the living Lord.
Let kings lay down their crowns before His feet,
Let every nation hear His welcome call;
His mercy and His righteousness now meet
To offer hope and peace alike to all.
The throne once hidden by the cross's shame
Now blazes bright with His exalted name.
The garden where despair once cast its seed
Has blossomed into everlasting spring;
The Shepherd lives to guide each wounded reed,
The Priest forever, and the sovereign King.
No winter keeps its everlasting reign
Where Christ has risen nevermore to wane.
So every Easter dawn and every morn,
When sunlight breaks upon the waiting earth,
Reminds us why the heavens were adorned
With songs announcing resurrection's birth.
The tomb stands empty through the passing years,
A beacon brighter than our doubts and fears.
He is not here; the angels still proclaim,
Though centuries have fled like drifting sand.
The crucified still bears the highest Name,
Exalted by the Father's mighty hand.
And all who trust the Victor of the grave
Shall share the endless life He died to save.
Until the final trumpet fills the sky,
Until the King appears in glorious light,
The Church shall lift this everlasting cry
Through every land and through the darkest night:
The stone is rolled away, the grave is bare,
For Christ is risen, living everywhere.
Then let our hearts remember what He said,
As first proclaimed beside the opened tomb:
The Son of Man was numbered with the dead,
Yet burst forever from the sealed room.
Now every faithful soul with joy may sing,
For death has lost its sting before the King.
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