Easter Day
Something happ’ed in darkest night,
change too wild to be true;
now as we gather in new dawn light,
there are footsteps in the dew.
Friday’s blood already dust,
we’ve not farewelled or blessed.
They bundled him away – needs must –
no balm, no love’s caress.
No Passover Moses filled the void,
blood’s smeared enough on hands.
Elijah’s tipped, old prophet spoiled,
Friday buried Sabbath plans.
Violence ’vaded heav’n it seems,
the temple veil is torn.
But wait –
Holy reaches out, redeems.
Grace trickles from a thorn.
Something happ’ed in darkest night,
change too wild to be true;
now as we gather in new dawn light,
there are footsteps in the dew.
© Sharonne Price 2017