Holy Saturday

On wooden cross, The Christ was nailed; His Spirit tossed, painful death sailed... The centurion's lance pierced His side; In sure fashion, blood water strides. The Christ was gone from the grim earth; Limp body forlorn waiting new birth. His empty shell dressed for burial, Ancient rites tell with words aural. His earthly form with scented spice, With bound cloth norm as custom prized. In a rock tomb in vested sleep; Like a new womb, in darkness deep. Death brought dismay to all He knew; A solemn day, a holy few. The light is blown, new life asleep; The Christ has flown as spirits weep. A big stone bars the tomb in sight; All hope seems far from living light. This Saturday, we mark holy, Set hearts to pray, on love solely. We weep with tears for loss so pure; We sense most clear for love's allure. In darkness deep, The Christ prevails; To wait for sleep to transcend tale. Dark is the night when all light ends; Blackness kills sight in anguished trends. Dark is the fear of death and gloom; All pain now sears the crushing doom. Dark is the world in death's sure swirl; All hope in twirls as hopeless hurl. No one can say how deep death is; Icy cold plays as dreadful beast. All souls that died and gone away; All tears we cried saw shadows slay. Our earthly days seem so forlorn; No cheer today for Christ is gone. Our fate seems dead in sure decay; Our lives afraid of death's sure day. Our empty shells in pain and strife, Bound for some hell in this vain life. The Son of Man in sacred sleep; Spirit-soul grand in boundless deep. The Son of Man in saving grace, Touched old souls then in all times' trace. The Son of Man in sure descend, A spring most grand with fond ascend. The darkness hides the lovely glow; The love that rides as seasons show. Holy this day, a Saturday When new life stays with healing rays. The tomb where love waits to reveal The rising dove that love now wills. The cloistered veil, the deep deep dark Where love prevails to grace and spark. Here in this gloom, new hope must come; Let hearts make room for love and psalm. Here in this dark, let fears now cease; Let minds now spark thoughts of grand peace. Here in this field where love does till, Let grace fulfill as Spirit heals. As we mourn loss, let our hearts know That earthly dross must yield love's glow. As we make time for lovely thoughts, Let darkness prime our sublime lot. The soldiers guard the living life; The Christ imparts love beyond strife. Death's icy touch must yield fond sleep; The living trudge to mourn and weep. The faithful know that end now starts A wondrous glow, a glorious heart. The Christ has said: "I shall arise..." Love made the trade for Love the prize. Here we abide with faith and hope; Love firms our ride to sculpt and scope. We wait for news, for happy dues, For lovely views, for loving cues. Saturday sleeps in holy stakes; A moment deep yet wide awake. The Christ shall come to touch and heal; Yeshua now sums love's fond appeal. Leon Enriquez 19 Apr 2014, (on Holy Saturday) Singapore