Risen
Doors opened. Nothing remains. Not robbed, just… gone.
Vanished as promised, but forgetful followers weep needlessly.
Memories run short, fears rise, promises seem to disappear.
Old lives renewed, old habits not quite dead,
hearts that fail, three years of sweat and tears like smoke.
Taking flight the journeys lead them right back to him.
He is the one – the only one – the coming king,
the beginning and the end;
he who must be named to the gatekeeper for admittance.
He is the sacrificial lamb, whose pure blood lines were pure,
whose true heart was true,
whose loving spirit was love,
and whose life was for all but his own.
Risen as he promised he must be.
Risen as the prophets foretold.
Risen as God may not remain in any box.
He is risen.
Seek ye first his kingdom.
Honor and prostrate yourself before him and no other.
His judgment is fair and true and full of grace.
And he shall judge.
His blood was required.
And so it was paid.
The sacrifice.
In debt to him.
Gladly done, through unbearable pain.
He never lied.
He is risen indeed.
http://indosand.blogspot.com/2006/04/easter-poetry_114589174856539905.html
