Easter Season

Each Wednesday evening, we eat soup and bread.
A simple meal like one our Savior ate,
Supping with dear and closest, trusted friends,
Taking the food to meet his coming fate.
Every one is regretfully afraid,
Realizing that our precious Savior dies.

Revolted that our black and grievous sin
Is causing Him to ride to His demise.
Traveling fearfully with Him to His doom
Until His death on cross on Black Friday.
All of us mourn and sorrow by the tomb,
Looking to promise we'll see Him again.
Sunday brings the most astounding vision.
  He has risen! Our Christ has arisen!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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