Sunday, He Lives
Early in the morning
Before the sun dawned,
Women crept to the garden
Asking how to open the tomb,
How to see in the gloom
What do we say to the guards?
The earth shook!
Tremors rocked the city walls,
Leaves fell like rain,
And the guards ran and hid;
At the tomb, these women arrived,
See how the door is open,
The stone has cracked and fallen away;
The women look and see nothing,
Save for the folded grave clothes,
And angels arrayed in glorious light;
“Why are you looking for the living
Among the dead, see, he is not here;”
The women ran to the disciples,
But Mary remained, weeping,
Searching, not quite believing;
A gardener drew near, she thought,
“Sir, where have you laid my Lord?”
And all she heard was “Mary”
And she believed;
Peter and John ran through,
Then entered the same tomb,
Saw what the ladies saw,
Still shaking their heads,
Not sure what they saw,
The angels spoke again,
“He is not here, he is risen,
Go and he will see you in Galilee;”
Back in the upper room,
The atmosphere trembled,
Shimmered, as Jesus appeared,
Not as a ghost, but a man,
Living, breathing,
Scars on show, voice recognised,
Smiling and blessing,
“He is Alive!”
Is the cry, and the Son rose,
A new dawn rising;
Live emphasising,
Restored and forgiven;
The Son of God lives,
And lives forevermore!
After two thousand years
We celebrate still;
He is alive,
And we love him for real;
Hallelujah! Jesus Christ has Risen,
And he lives today.
(C)Steve Gregory 2025
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