Wednesday, November 28, 2012

A Try at Poetry, by Christopher

Hello all. Yesterday I found the first stanza of a poem which I had started three or four years ago (hard to tell since I had forgotten to date it). For some odd reason, I could not put it down. After staring at it for a couple of minutes, I had a sudden rush of poetic inspiration. Now, since I am not a poetic person (just try talking to me for a few minutes about poetry and you will see what I mean), when I feel inspired, I cannot stop until I am finished. Therefore, when I woke up this morning, I sat down and wrote until the poem was completed.

As I said, I am not a very poetic person. Therefore, this poem is not what one would call "great", or even "average". However, it is one of the few poems (I can only remember two others) that I have finished, so I am quite happy with it.

I hope all of you enjoy, and that maybe God will somehow use it to bring glory to His Name.

The Crucifixion and Resurrection
by Christopher Stahlberg

A perfect Lamb, hangs on a tree
With nail-pierced hands and feet.
Unto Him I now do flee,
His love and grace to meet.

A sign is hung above His head
Proclaiming royalty.
Yet nearly every passerby
Spits out mockery.

The Lord of Life, the God of time
Dies as a petty thief.
His Father’s wrath is turned on Him
And crushes Him beneath.

“My Lord, my God, my dear Father!
Why have you forsaken me?”
Yet the Father did not answer
Nor spare His agony.

As His Father’s anger 
Brought Him nearer death.
Our dearest Lord bore all our sins,
E’en to final breath.

Listen, brother! Don’t you hear?
The veil is torn in two!
The earth now shakes, the stones are rent,
And saints are passing through! 

Now comes Rome’s centurion,
He falls upon his knees;
“Surely He is the Son of God!
 In this I must believe!”

The women which followed Jesus
Ministering to Him, (Mary Magdalene and Mary mother of Zebedee’s children)
Wept as they saw their Lord die,
Broken, scarred and beaten.

Then came Joseph of Arimathea,
A disciple of our prince,
Pleading Pilate for Christ’s body
To lay it down to rest. 

Pilate concurred and gave the body
To be laid in the tomb.
(This is the man who, from cowardice,
Ordered Light unto His doom.)

Outside the tomb a watch was placed
By the Pharisees and priests,
To go and make the tomb secure,
From Christ’s disciples at least.

Yet Christ Himself could not remain
In the grave for eternity,
For Lo! Earthquakes and great angels
Have rolled the stone away.

Then came the Marys,who watched our Lord 
Die upon the tree,
Unto His tomb with downcast face,
His body there to see. 

As they neared the tomb they saw angels 
With raiment white as snow,
Who told to them, "He is not here,
He rose not long ago."

The women ran with joyful steps
To proclaim the glorious news,
That Jesus was no longer dead
As they earlier mused.

Then the disciples hurried to Galilee
Up onto the mount.
There they met the risen Lord of life
Who is the blessed Fount.

Christ looked on them with purest love,
The ones His death had bought,
Then opened His mouth and told to them 
What every Christian ought:

“Go, my brethren, and preach the Gospel 
Unto every nation,
Baptizing in the Triune Name
Of God who reigns in Heaven,

Teaching them to obey 
All that I have commanded;
For I am with you always,
Even ‘till the end.”

Glory be to the Father,
And to the Son,
And to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning,
Is now and ever shall be.
World without end.