Today’s Lenten Meditation
I am pleased to post two Easter poems today:
It’s Holy Saturday
Dough is rising
on the kitchen counter
filling me with thoughts
over the Sea of Galilee
booming and bursting
jet planes at take-off
with long trails of fire
zooming to the moon
O, but nothing
and no one
has ever done it
Maude Carolan Pych
My friend, Sister Jane Abeln, SMIC, is a fellow member of the North Jersey Christian Writers Group. In 1965 she wrote the following Easter poem. She brought it to this month's meeting for critique by our group, then made a few changes and sent it to me to post on this blog. It's very musical and meaningful. Read, enjoy and REJOICE!
An Easter Song
The Sheep sleeps:
The meek Lamb who did not speak
before His shearers; Who without shout
under the rod of His branders was led
to His death ‘mid jeers of bystanders;
with only tears for the clotted crowd
and a cry as He felt abandoned
even by God. He sleeps now,
in peace, after the shock,
in the bed of the rock.
He is dead.
The weak Lamb, the meek Man,
meek and weak for love none can speak,
for people no Lamb but Love
could ransom and re-seek.
Bound around, wound in white,
found in the ground, the Light hid from sight.
while in the night, guards watch in fright,
minding the stone, tightly sealed,
for dread lest friends His Body steal
and then propound to all around:
“He is risen from the ground.
He is risen from the dead,
truly risen as He said.”
Then, on the first day of the week,
while still in sleep the people lay,
women came to seek the grave
and, with fragrance sweet, array
the Lamb weak, the Man meek—but
He was not there!
That same daybreak did He speak
to His Mother and to another with her name
when that Mary came to weep and pray.
His life of glory
He’d begun to share.
Redeemed People, Graced Race,
Hear and praise!
The Lamp is light with new fire bright,
Light of a New Day.
The Lamb leads the way
to keep the sheep in the sight
of His Father’s Face.
Crucified, died, from Whose spear-slit side
came streaming blood, a cleansing flood
to wipe away the pride of sin and win again
the sons and daughters of men
by the tides of saving grace.
The sleeping Sheep arises.
He leads the lambs to the land of brightness
where He stands at the Right Hand
of the Most High.
They hymn to Him, the Victim,
praise for so great a Victory,
by which He gained the glory
that sets women and men free.
“Lamb without stain, Who died in pain,
slain to save the race from Satan, pride, and shame:
To You we raise our acclaim of praise.
May You reign for ages of days!
All raise to the skies praise to You on high.
We cry: You rose alive!
Truly, truly, You are alive!
Sr. Jane Abeln, SMIC