They gathered round the
market square, in
clusters great and
small.
In vain they tried their
very best to comprehend
it all.
Some pointed back to
Calvary’s hill, some
lingered near the tomb,
While others cried to
God above to lift this
cloud of doom.
The hours went by, some
went on home, no answers
for their grief.
Some felt deceived, some
felt betrayed and
drowned in unbelief.
That Saturday was worst
of all, for they were
sure He’d died.
Their friends had
stopped their mocking
now; they’d proved that
Jesus lied.
By Sunday morning all
had changed and shouting
filled the air,
"Jesus arose just as He
said, And He’s no longer
there!"
The women ran from house
to house and banged upon
each door.
"He is not dead! Our
Saviour lives! He’s like
He was before!"
They gathered round the
market square, they
sang, they danced, they
prayed,
They peered into the
open tomb where Jesus
once had laid.
To Thomas, Jesus showed
His hands to help his
unbelief.
Five hundred hovered
near Him while took away
their grief.
The empty tomb, the
risen Lord, the
cornerstones He laid;
Upon those words our
faith depends, for us
the price He paid.
All praises go to Jesus
now and evermore shall
be,
He's Aive! He conquered
death, for me eternally!
by Mariane Holbrook
http://www.marianholbrook.com
Mariane
Holbrook is a retired
teacher, an author of
two books,
a musician and artist.
She lives with her
husband on coastal
North Carolina. She
maintains a personal
website
www.marianholbrook.com
and welcomes
your
Emails at
Mariane777@bellsouth.net.
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