A myHT Fortress

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter Cemetery Sunrise Service

The following is a poem by Chad Bird, M.Div., S.T.M.
Chad is a gifted poet and hymnist.

Ten acres of frigid rural soil

Thickly frosted in Easter’s pre-dawn
Subterranean saints,
quilted in earth
Smile warmly at the band of believers
Huddled above to catcall verses of victory

Into the mocking mien of chiseled stones
The rocky trophies of mortality’s coup

North, south, west, and east of Eden

Wizened hags, pimpled teens, snotty-nosed kids

All dust to dust, prey of the funereal broom

Swept beneath this rug of grass and weeds

Most forgotten by man, yet all remembered

By Him whose lungs breathed mud into man

Each fruit of a womb, the apple of His eye

Each soul, a priceless pearl, purchased

With crimson coinage minted in divinity’s veins

These wooden suitcases of rotting raiment

Sepulchered beneath the worshipers’ feet

Travel on, transported by time not space

From the hour of death to the day of judgment

Ever ready to spill their contents upward

No longer as bags of bones and soiled flesh

But resculptured clay pulsating with life

Lazaruses wiping graveyard dust from their feet

Like champagne corks, grave-stones shall pop

As unbottled bodies after long fermentation

Bubble upward with fresh blood and skin

Ready for their vintage soul waiting above

And joined by that ragtag band of believers

Who awoke early to go to the place of sleepers

Defying death and mocking mortality

Early one Easter morn.

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