Resurrection - The Easter Story
They slept, who should have guarded,
And watched over his tomb,
But he 'rose up' and none did see
His rebirth from this womb,
His spirit graced the garden,
His final act was done,
He was 'The Resurrection'
His victory had been won.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Another Season
We have another season ahead, when we think of death instead,
Instead of the birth of Jesus Christ, Who, came to be a sacrifice,
We think of a Hill called Calvary, where our Savior died on a tree,
When cursed is the one on a tree; this, Christ did for you and me.
It was part of God's Eternal Plan, for the babe to become a man,
As a body was prepared for Him, Eternal God, to bear all our sin,
He became a curse for everyone, with God's wrath upon His Son,
Christ paid sin's eternal cost, as The Sinless Lamb for all the lost.
He was then buried in a tomb, all appeared, to be His final doom,
But in three days to much surprise, from that grave He would rise,
From the tomb Christ had risen again, to be the Savior of all men,
Now, behind Christ was Calvary, while ahead for man was victory.
As this alone is the very reason, we celebrate this Easter Season,
Better known as Resurrection Day, when God for us made a way;
Unlike Christ, we were born in sin, and only in Christ can men win,
That final victory over death, and receive from Him eternal breath.
The victory to be gained by us, is through The Lord, Christ Jesus,
Who as The Savior of all men, enables us to become Born Again,
As believers, still upon this earth, through a spiritual second birth,
And through the Lord Jesus Christ, we instead will see eternal life.
(Copyright ©02/2012)
Be Very Patient
Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.
Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.
Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!
We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Daughter of my womb
Daughter of my womb
You've stabbed my heart so bad
You've killed the bearer of your life
Daughter of my womb am dying
My smile is but a frown
I have no idea whom I will crown
As the daughter of your womb
For you've sent them all to the tomb
My wrinkled hands needed a tender one
My closing eye libs needed to see before they are gone
The seed of the seed of my womb are no more
Daughter of my womb, you've killed the daughters of your womb
The medicine man in his robes
Administered the wrong root for a drug
Your womb is empty I have nothing to wait for
Why didn't you tell me of your planned atrocities before?
Daughter of my womb
Daughter of my womb
You've stabbed my heart so bad
You've killed the bearer of your womb
You've sent your seed to the tomb
You've dragged the generation of your womb
Daughter of my womb, you've killed us.
poem by Robert Abok
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shall I use sword to solve Gordian Knot
when I opened my eyes to the world,
Not only my mouth opened to
breast of my mother,
Much before that my ears were open,
And skin that sensed touch of men or woman,
Known or unknown,
Expressing that by laugh or weep,
Then slowly opened eyes to see that world,
And light entered in eyes earlier,
Now reached brain!
Then started the questions and mystery Train,
And I became as what my elders trained!
But some years later I learnt life is from womb to tomb,
That made me to sit on tomb, into which I
saw someone sleeping,
As bone and skeleton,
With that hollow skull,
Then I learnt where one day I have to Go!
I disliked to sleep there with that hollow skull
I reached there without hollow skull,
But with brainful of painful thoughts!
If tomb is my destination,
Why came from womb,
If I can't assimilate, why should I eat,
If I can't solve the puzzle, why should bother it,
If everything is fate, how best life that I can rate?
I came to home straight and
Slept in a wooden box to feel my tomb with soulful brain!
I started learning to
Go where I should go,
Go and sleep in that wooden tomb and slept well there
and became familiar with that!
Then came my mother where I
am,
When she learnt that I am in my
own tomb,
Called father to show where I
am, Both lifted me
And laughed, Kissed me and said,
'You naughty, hiding there? '
Someday I have to throw this old used scrap in the waste box called my tomb,
If life Gordian knot,
Shall I use that sword to cut the rope,
The sword of self knowledge,
which is ultimate and impatient action,
I need not go and win the world,
Only I want win myself,
Self that in me have that thrill
And the joy of solving puzzle,
Within fairness of the game?
It kills the spirit in me,
And the spirit of puzzle
If I cut the rope,
And that game is over to me!
Let me play a while,
my mother is always ready,
She takes my into her lap
I will sleep in that love that is divine,
Than sleeping here in this tomb,
Once I throw that baggage aside
That was useful always in this journey,
All fate goes to that bag and not it can come unto me,
I am that son of God,
And God has to guide me as he is always my elder,
And He is my Fate, and I am destined to play and sleep with him!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Womb to womb to tomb
I am born unto this womb
To be born again unto another womb
Before I take birth once again unto another womb
Then as mark of respect
A tomb shall man place on that womb
To remind the world
That this day a man
Was, born unto this womb.
Before another birth I seek
To live another life in another womb
In the seas of life I shall swim
Before I am once again ready
To take birth unto this womb
To be born again unto another womb
Before, I take birth once again to be entombed.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 290108.
poem by cyclopseven Ram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Transition
This is my cell, this cold stone tomb,
It's my heart's home, this rotting womb!
Planted seed, baby rose,
Help me heal and help me grow.
Watered seed, budding rose,
Build me up, flesh and bone.
Flowering seed, blooming rose,
Teach me things that i don't know.
Flower of Passion, flaming Rose,
Burn down these walls around my soul.
poem by Floyd Zimmerman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lost In My Garden
Across the way and around the bend
my world comes to an end.
I do not venture further than that
but there's a garden there I tend.
Beyond the garden there is a fence,
a fence that keeps me here.
I'm not allowed to go anywhere.
I cannot disappear.
For I'm watched and guarded all the time,
never let alone.
But I made up my mind so long ago
that this place is my home.
I have no friends for I've been told
they're all afraid of me.
I must have done something terrible
but it's not in my memory.
Someone brings me out in the sun
and later brings me in.
I see people staring at me
as I lower my head and chin.
What was it I did? I can't recall
and maybe it's better that way.
When I'm in my bed with one bulb on
it's then I always pray.
'Please don't let me remember God.
Please let me stay this way.
For who will take care of my garden
on every sunny day? '
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today... 'Rabboni
'Why do you look for Jesus amongst the dead'
These were the words the angels to Mary said
Later in the garden she heard You call her name
Then turning around 'Rabboni' was her refrain
The voice she thought she'd never hear again
Came speaking from the grave so clear and plain
There before her in glorious resurrection victory
Stood her Lord, untouchable but alive was He
You're alive! From the dead You have risen
and to You all the power and glory is given
You have risen in the power of an endless life
from the grave in glorious victory over strife
The gates of death You have burst open wide
Setting free all of the prisoners locked inside
'Oh grave you no longer have any hold on me'
Your sting is removed for Jesus holds the key
Death is vanquished and sins powers ceased
Now Satan is defeated and its captives released
Your victory over sin destroyed all of its powers
You have conquered death that final foe of ours.
Raboni, my master, my God and my Lord
Your victory and glory the heavens applaud.
Victor over Satan, Death and the Grave
and risen with power and mighty to save.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Guarded from sexual pleasure
My parents, uncles and aunts guarded me,
My brothers, sisters and cousins guarded me,
My husband and his members guarded me,
My colleagues and neigbours guarded me
And my children, nephews and nieces guarded me
Against my pleasure that men could give me.
23.12.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whispers in the Garden
At early dawn,
I rose from my slumber
And swung open
The garden gate.
I nestled down
Among the rows
Of plants
and watched them germinate.
Tendrals of Ivy,
Dewed Rose,
And Indian Corn.
All are growing,
This early morn.
There's Sunflower,
Tomatoe. Lime.
Lemon. Grape!
All are beyond
The garden gate
Each plant rustles
As it matures.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Gospel Truth
The Gospel Truth has been preached, to the far ends of this world,
Many hearts this Truth has reached; Good News men would herald.
And many men with joy received, the Good News they would impart,
Moved by faith, they then believed, then Christ indwelled their heart.
And on this Truth men take a stand, when guided by The Holy Spirit,
Helping other men then understand, Truth when they chose to hear it.
And by this Truth all men are saved, through The Holy Spirit’s power,
Divinely saved from a life depraved, saved every day and every hour.
Christ came into this world to die, as God’s ultimate atoning sacrifice,
This for sinful men, like you and I, on the cross paid the ultimate price.
The Lord then was buried friend; they buried Him in a Garden Tomb,
However that was not to be the end, of what seemed to be His doom.
The Lord and Savior rose again, just like Christ Jesus said He would,
Thus He sealed victory for all men, just as The Savior knew He could.
Jesus was then seen by many men, and was believed by even those,
Who had doubted He’d rise again, when His presence proved He rose.
This Truth is centered on The One, Who came to earth to set men free,
Who was and is, God’s Only Son, Who gives men New Life in Eternity.
He is Ruler of Heaven and earth, and He is coming back for all to see,
And friend only through a New Birth, can men live through all Eternity.
(Copyright ©03/2006)
Resurrection
The darkness ruled inside the tomb where Jesus had been laid,
Like when within His Mother's womb, the Saviour child was made.
The sombre callous death was done when Christ was crucified...
The Lamb of God, indeed the One, who bled, arms open wide...
For now, He served His God in death, as He had served in life -
Until He took His final breath to finalise His strife.
The body laid in Death's embrace, inside a morbid shroud...
No Halleluyah word of praise and no Hosanna loud.
The silence ruled inside the rock where Jesus had been left.
Beyond this realm, His Mother's shock, had made her quite bereft.
She wept her tears, like Mothers do, surrounded by His friends...
A small group called the chosen few, brought low by these events...
The hours passed and nothing stirred - Christ's body stayed serene.
For God had not yet said the word to raise the Nazarene.
The angels waited silently with faith no mortal shared.
God's Son had conquered Calvary - from Death, He must be spared!
The Spirit who was once in Christ returned to Him again -
Restoring what was sacrificed and bled before all men!
He left behind His death, His tomb, His shroud and darkness, too...
Outshining every rose's bloom, Lord Jesus rose... for you!
The poem has been accepted by Forward Press,
of Peterborough, in the UK, for their anthology,
The Chessboard Of Life, November 2009.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rabboni
'Why do you look for Jesus amongst the dead'
These were the words the angels to Mary said.
Later in the garden she heard You call her name
Then turning around 'Rabboni' was her refrain.
The voice she thought she'd never hear again
came speaking from the grave so clear and plain.
There before her in glorious resurrection victory
stood her Lord, untouchable but alive was He.
I Plucked A Rose From A Garden Green......
By Murtaza Abt
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
Of beauty never felt or seen,
Hoping that it would never wilt,
And always be as always been.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
with a happy blissful heart,
And promised i would hold it tight,
And never would we part.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
But little did i know,
That not in endless love and care,
But gardens do they grow.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And took it home with me,
But little did it stay the way,
The way t'was meant to be.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to grieve,
Over gardens green and meadows lush,
As it was sad to leave.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to wilt,
And wither in that unknown land,
it filled my heart with guilt.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to die,
For happiness i had only asked,
But i began to cry.
....................................
I have p L ucked y O u from a garden green,
Your beauty i VE never felt or seen,
Hoping that YOU will never wilt,
And always be as always been.
09/Nov/09
poem by Murtaza Abt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death Remains My Enemy (A Riff)
Death remains my Enemy
I've known it since a boy,
The shadow in my garden
The monster I avoid.
It slithers in the darkness
Just above my head,
It whispers of the starkness
As I go to bed.
Survival at its source
Is desperate against death
It writhes and bites and coils,
Just for added breaths.
No anodyne of Angels
Nor ghosts trapped on the earth
Nor hopes of resurrection
Nor promise of rebirth
Can effectively assuage
The lonely deafening silence
The feebleness of age
The tired hands of violence.
poem by David McLansky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Easter Sadness
The pink bunnies and painted eggs, this twist in culture truly begs,
For the true meaning behind, the holiday façade steeling the mind.
Not only the mind but the heart, as from God’s Truth many depart,
His Truth is said and men hear it, but many follow the pagan spirit.
The egg they say reflects new life, but don’t mention Jesus Christ,
Instead the eggs we are told to hide, after they are colorfully dyed.
And the bunny comes into play, to observe Easter the secular way,
As children everywhere are allured, to a bunny instead of The Lord.
Jelly beans and yellow chicks, become for many the secular picks,
Choices that reflect emptiness, in hearts that say ignorance is bliss.
As Easter baskets fill the home, children’s hearts continue to roam,
Moving them from God’s Truth, as chocolate bunnies are the proof.
The day that marks the resurrection, truly moved in a sad direction,
As foolishness is what men chose, tainting the day Christ had rose.
The one day that marks our victory, is marred by ridiculous fantasy,
Filling our day with foolish fun, in lieu of recalling what God’s done.
It is sad in the way men trivialize, such a day in all the world’s eyes,
But it changes not at all for us, who in Jesus have placed our trust,
Nor does it change at all the fact, that He who rose is coming back.
And coming back for all to see, Resurrection Day is what it is to be.
(Copyright ©04/2007)
The Tomb Is Empty
Face it friend, the tomb is empty; death couldn’t hold Christ, you see,
Although He died for you and me, He’s now on the Throne of Eternity.
The stone, covering where Christ lay, by God’s hand, was rolled away.
In that tomb where Christ was laid, only Christ’s grave clothes stayed,
There He stood, in a body Glorified, Jesus Christ, who bled and died.
Mary was the first one to that tomb, bearing a heart filled with gloom,
She assumed the body was taken, but she would be gladly mistaken,
For, with her heavy heart that day, she would soon hear an angel say,
You will not find Christ Jesus dead, for He rose just like He had said.
She left to tell others not to grieve, for The Lord, they too would see.
Now Mary filled with a joyful heart, from an empty tomb would depart,
Filled with wonder she ran to those, other disciples, to say Christ rose.
Peter began running fast ahead; as they had thought Christ was dead,
Now he ran with much anticipation, enthused by a brand new situation,
Looking inside he just saw clothes, for from the grave Christ had rose.
But all hearts stayed, like the tomb, until Christ entered into that room,
Showing them His hands and side, proving He was The One who died.
Christ would stay for forty days, filling their hearts with joy and praise,
Filing them with His Hope and victory, that will last through all eternity,
Where they shall remain forevermore, with their Savior, Christ our Lord.
(Copyright ©04/2007)
Winter Rose
Outcast of the Winter wind
A Rose fights for life and lingers on
But a bitter chill-has cast it's fill
And most of the gardens Roses are gone;
But there 'tis one that remains
With a spirit-fighting to the very end
A Rose amongst the snows of time
Embraces the warm of love you send;
So, if you should find yourself missing me
Just look out at the Garden Of Stone
And in the chill of a Winters unforgiving fill
A single Rose stands all alone;
That would be me-waiting still
For the spirit of your warm aura e'er true
Fighting this iced chill-but with a mighty will
This single Rose 'tis waiting for you;
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A kick gets boot
Final solitary kick gets golden boot
Final attempt by all to lay hand on loot
What a surprise to end in gamy by foot
A real and lucky goal by fine shoot
Many may cry over the result
This is victory for game and not insult
It is bas that has been built
All to rejoice with joy and not with guilt
Fans from all over may rejoice
It is their love and choice
Upholding the spirit of game
Only luck has to be blamed
No nation is preparing to go at war
Cry for reprisal is very far
It is hilarious and rejoicing day
The game has ruled all the way
We have watched the game with anxiety
It has added many aspects in variety
To acclaim the victory is national pride
Only to uphold game and emotions not to hide
Nations are brought close to brotherhood
It is good sign of tolerance and neighborhood
Who can suffer the defeat n the game?
No one except the strategy and bad luck to blame
It was to excel with forecast or without forecast
The teams won it with speed very fast
It was do or die struggle and will power to stay
The game has survived with all powerful sway
Let us not say good bye to game spirit
We will come again with confidence in it
It shall rule again and many hearts may weep
It is important for all to maintain and keep
I t may lead to victory celebration
It may also lead to building up of good relation
Millions may rejoice and depart with memory
Everything to rejoice and not to feel sorry
It is routine to hold such nice events
It is happy gathering with memorable movements
World all over has witnessed and tested the joy
No sorrow, no grievance but moments to enjoy
Nothing has changed except the game
It has shown the way and timely came
How can millions watch it with enthusiasm?
It is really building of nationalism
There lies root of sentiments
They assuage the feelings with comments
It is the true spirit that rules the scene
Such a vast imagery show is never seen
No one goes down here with any humiliation
the game is built up without any doubt or question
It may never carry any ill feeling or bad reputation
It has survived and can be claimed without any hesitation
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God Has Such Amazing Faith
We talk about believing in God
Believing in lies believing in truth,
Being a living sacrifice, putting our full trust in something that we
Cannot even see
But man, God is the one who really has strong faith
How does such a being, full of power, trust us?
He had a legacy, He sent His only son to the world
That Son was His hope, His pride, His joy, the world's very Savior
And yet that same Son was crucified
And then He died
But through power He rose again
And gave that power, that exceeding gain
To us.
We have that Spirit
But God entrusted his legacy to mortal man
There is no evidence of the resurrection
That evidence is Jesus Himself who is seated on the throne
The Only evidence we have is the Holy Spirit
God's faith in us amazes me
That He'd trust a fallen people, not only with such power
But the legacy of His Son, His legacy.
That He'd entrust us to spread His gospel.
I can scarce believe that God had such faith
To leave the only evidence of Jesus and His resurrection
In the hearts of men
Thank you God for your faith and trust
It's hard for us to put our faith in You, You who is powerful
You who is merciful, You who is loving.
But in all your great mercy and love
You put your faith in us
To spread that gospel
To use that power
To continue the legacy
To listen to the Spirit
To make disciples
To live
Because before You
Before Your sacrifice
Before the new heart
Before the redemption
Before the forgiveness
Before the healing
We were all dead
So thank You God
Thank You for having faith in me, even when I doubt you
Thank You for having faith in us, when we're a skeptical people
So thank You for the cross
I'll
We'll continue that legacy
Your Spirit, God, You, will be the living and strong evidence
That you are powerful, that Jesus rose from the dead
Lord God
I'll
We'll carry this Spirit to the ends of the earth
Because YOUR love, YOUR grace, and God YOUR FAITH
They give us strength
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!