Pilfered

A poetic hymn celebrating Easter’s promise.

empty grave

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pilfered by such crimson stains

un-ruin of lost passion’s gaze.

We see, although with borrowed eyes,

the ways of marrow’d bones that cry

and heed tomorrow’s empty plans,

still grasped are we by steady hands.

Once-sceptered race, too weak to sing,

hums strained refrains, the note’s the thing

that begs to be so firmly placed

beside heav’ns door, to see our face.

 

Pilfered, now, the empty tombs

of prison-ing stone that left no room

for breath, nor sight, life’s dividend

so oft ignored, yet without end.

The beating heart in longing chest

can speak no lies, at love’s request

when barrenness no longer reigns

and God above sees not a stain.

Sorrow’s nest, our broken lot,

lies strewn about, dark chains forgot.

 

Pilfered, now, once seeing eyes,

which, seeing, saw but only lies

and in such blindness, seeing sought

to see once more what love forgot.

The heart bursts open, warm and full

and knows the place from whence it’s pull:

paraded by heav’ns stunning grace,

now heav’nward, sure, it finds its place.

Secured by love, in hope, transformed

salvation’s gift: the cold heart, warmed.

 

 

 

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