The Symbolism of Sunday
“Tomorrow dawns the Sabbath –
A day of rest for Man,
But behold the Women, Sunday,
Approach the grave to mourn and tend.
So awake, My Son! Awake, I cry
With radiant light of day!
Awaken victorious forevermore;
Over Death have sway!
Awake, My Son, Death’s grip fails –
You have conquered all; arise!
Death’s bonds burst away;
As dead, the fearful Guard lies.
“Behold the women weeping near,
Angles, descend below!
Tell them not to be afraid;
My Son’s no longer laid low.
Roll back the stone for all
The disciples to see inside.
And My Son, speak to Mary,
For Heavenward she’s cried.”
The Resurrection
“Mary!” Father, she knows My Voice!
She runs to cling to Me.
“No, let Me go; I can’t be held,
Tell the Twelve of what you see.
I promise I shall appear again
If they sojourn to Galilee.”
“My Son, continue a few days more –
Only a few – forty –remain!
Show yourself to the Chosen Ones –
They proclaim You alive again.
Meet the disciples waiting long
In the appointed Upper Room.
Speak assurance to calm their fears
That You have escaped the Tomb!
Thomas tearfully turns away
In disbelief at what they say:
“I’ll only know when in His side
I put my fist, He was crucified,
And lives again when I insert
My finger in His wrist’s deep hurt!”
“Yet, he searches out You still
And longs, somehow, this word be true!
That’s why, though hesitant, he rejoins
The Others as they wait for You.
Appear! Draw nigh the wondering few.”
“Thomas! Here – insert your fist
Into my spear-pierced side.
And place your fingertips into
The wound – marks of a crucified.
Do you believe now, beloved one?
Yes? Good, for you tis well!
But blessed more are those in faith,
Who haven’t seen Me fleshly dwell,
And yet believe that I Am arisen,
And Conqueror of powers of hell.”
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