Estranged from love, shrouded by veil,
There she was hidden, weakened, frail.
Wages of sin, yet now its chains fail,
Softest kiss draws pink from the pale.
“And behold, the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom.”
~ Matthew 27:51
His vigil, faithful keeping, in tears, the angels mourn,
Hid from all His radiance, the darkness of tomb forlorn.
Then the hour fulfilling, these two recalled that morn,
As day awoke from slumber, within, there broke true dawn.
His words flowed, sweet breeze in the fields,
But what was Spirit, now quiet, so still.
Trampled by sin, crushed under man’s heel.
The Christ, see hanging, death on the hill.
Good Friday, April 18, 2014
The dark and silent hour, the tempter soon arrives,
Prowling ever surely, your weakness, quickly spies.
So raise the guard, be ready, torches roused to life,
Gaze and beauty catching, but his fangs, drip wild with lies.
Holy Thursday, April 17, 2014
Scattered, lay her children, upon the cold wet floor,
Rain and wind had stolen them, at her arms, they tore.
Who will console this mother, her young return once more?
Gently, the Saviour gathers, her pride of leaves restore.
Rising ever gently, above life’s frantic pace,
Sound of Nature stirring, her music softly plays,
Notes, each sweetly ringing, fresh tidings of new grace,
With morn, the darkness fleeing, her flowers kiss His face.
In the silence, the voice entreats,
Leave your cares, ascend this steep.
Softly breeze and free spirit meet,
Sacred heights where the Holy sleep.