Even the sun itself will bow
for no power on earth, or hell below
will stand in the presence of The Christ.
Victorious on the those sticks of wood
His blood was shed
and yet remains
ever a reminder of His great love.
But don't look for Him there.
The cross is empty, the tomb vacant.
All He claimed to be, proven.
Risen. Alive. Glorified.
When troubles come
and come they will
look to the empty cross.
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9 comments:
a perfect poem on the march to easter...i hope that you have a marvelous weekend
he is risen
So true and beautifully written Firefly....i love this! :-)
This is beautiful Karin. Just beautiful. A lovely reminder that the cross and grave are indeed empty and His Victory is ours.
Excellent job! Lovely poem.
He lives... get comfort in your words.
beautiful, comforting and spiritual! lovely!
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I love this. Thank you, Karin.
"All He claimed to be, proven."
And what a relief that is. Whew...
He is risen indeed.
Don't look for him there. Look for him in our hearts. And in our compassion and acts of love.
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