An Easter Poem
In the early hours of the morning,
after the Sabbath had ended,
a few women walked toward his grave
to finish matters left unattended.
They carried spices for anointing,
to honor custom and tradition.
For he had been quickly laid in the grave
on the day of Preparation.
So early on Sunday morning,
even before it was light,
they approached the tomb of Jesus
to set things back to right.
The stone, however, was rolled away
and no body lay behind it.
Was he taken by believers or hid by guards?
Their concern was how to find him.
They were startled by an angel,
dressed in white, a splendid vision.
“Why seek ye the living among the dead?”
he asked. “He is not here, he is risen.”
Filled with fear and excitement
at what the angel said,
they ran to tell the disciples
that Jesus was not still dead.
The eleven found the women’s story
understandably hard to believe.
But Simon Peter ran to the tomb,
for himself he just had to see.
The stone was moved, as they said,
and the sheet lay in its place.
But the napkin was to the side neatly folded,
that had covered Jesus’ face.
Peter saw the empty tomb,
Jesus’ body was gone for sure.
That didn’t mean he was alive.
Seeing is one thing; faith required more.
Mary Magdalene met Jesus,
and two believers on the road spoke with him.
Finally the eleven were in a closed room,
When Jesus did not enter but appeared to them.
It would take time for them to understand
all that Jesus had taught them.
His most important work was on the cross,
and by his blood he bought them.
The crucifixion, resurrection,
Great commission and ascension;
it seems like an awful lot
for a few lines of poetry to mention.
So here’s a thought, perhaps a challenge,
instead of letting your mind sit idle:
this story of Jesus and many others
are all right there inside your Bible.