by Ashley Bonner
Sabbath, it begins in groaning.
Gloom and black abyss surround,
Joined with dry wind, still bemoaning
The cursed tree upon the Skull Mound.
Blood watered long and deep today
Ashen, rigid branches, bare
Of life, but to what? Only dismay
And grief, His orphans in despair.
Day of rest in silence we spend.
Tender, vacant eyes proclaim
Our Rabbi, Redeemer, Healer, Friend
Lost to Sheol in bitter shame.
Spectres chase away our sleep.
Hollows hallowed, they whisper in wait
Of a germination, a breaking deep
In the earth outside the city gate.
Awake, O sleeper! Come and see!
O children, your Lord - He is risen! He lives!
The branches give vines and leaves. The tree
That once was wretched, life He gives!
Morning brings the flowers soft -
Crimson, indigo, and gold -
Creeping up to raise aloft
Praise and love of Messiah foretold!
Death, it is conquered! Water and blood
Birthed life from the dust of Adam's bone.
The tree - Your scepter - like Aaron's it shall bud
Evermore beside David's unending throne!