Easter

Easter will be soon, and The fourth full moon will shine On dresses fine and colored eggs, The racing of legs of little ones to find them. But not today! As I in quiet meditation, My reflection turns to those devilish days, When Your sweat soaked locks hid half your face, And no grace would seem to fall on You. Cruel soldiers pushed Your pace, Even rushing the race when You fell. I can about hear the crying As Your dying was beginning to set in; The way of the cross to the end, And then it was over. Then observing ghoulish hearts turned, Did they burn while they trod their paths home? Were they changed, their lives rearranged, When they heard “Forgive them for they know not what they do?” Then to all’s surprise, You would rise and make Your words all true. Bells throughout the ages would ring, And bring the joy of Easter’s Spring Celebrating.