Sunday Came

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The cross is dark,
Against the dawn.
Just the long beam
Stands guard alone.
The dew is wet,
Atop the lawn.
Soul weary women,
Plod on and on.
Garden tombs dark,
Shadows up ahead,
The stone, who will move?
It’s the task they dread.
A brilliant light,
An angel within said,
“Why seek the living,
Among the dead?
Chrisit has risen,
Just like He said.
Go tell the others
He lives instead.”
An empty cross,
An empty grave,
An invitation,
The gift He gave.
Will you accept it?
The sacrifice made?
For your redemption,
The price is paid.
Come one and all,
Kneel, confess, receive
The sacrifice given,
Do you believe?
             -d.f.a.v.  4/6/15
—-Donna

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