Natures  barks of  divisions
   Marks  trees  green- frocked;
    Splitting  open at the seams...
To knock down higher dreams,
Unfair rulers cursed~ mocked
  God's prophesies and  visions.

One of the good men,
Joseph,  of  Ãr-im-ã-thæ'-ã,
Devoted to God's mission,
 Begged  Pilate's permission
 To cut  Jesus  from the tree. 
 He wrapped Him in fine linen,
Then laid His body in a  grave
Inside a darkened cave.

In the light of early morning...
Women carrying scented spice,
And with ointments,  prepared
To annoint the  flesh of Christ... 
They were stunned ~  scared,
Exhausted in deep mourning!
Words were beyond repeating,
To describe the Lord's  beatings!

Mary Magdalene and friends,
Could not comprehend,
Why stone had rolled away;
From entrance of the cave.
  The burial  linen neatly  in place,
But  no Jesus in  the  grave?
Color drained from each face
As they knelt tiredly to pray!

Then two angels appeared
 Listen to us!  They said. 
Lo...His sepulchre lies empty,
But Jesus has not disappeared.
His body died to set men free...
The holy spirit is not dead!
The Prince of Peace has risen,
Oh yes, He's grandly risen
Above His earthly prison!

© Copyright photography and poetry
By Andrea Jeanne Petersen
 Easter page April 03, 2007