The Greatest Gift


  • JAlden
  • After a couple years gone, I think it's about time I made a return. Time to upload some poetry.

The Greatest Gift

In the quiet darkness, pouring rain,
The Heavens weeping constant, Christ is slain;
The sweeping shadows of a silent tomb
Have now become our sweetest Savior’s doom.

The choking nighttime of a soundless grave,
Where nothing lives, behold! He did not save
Himself from this, a hapless end, 
Though earth could shake and temple’s veil could rend.

This non-existing void of endless death
Throughout this shade there is no living breath.
The stone whose might remains for mortal man too great,
Holds mankind down, condemned to Adam’s fate. 

That simple man had pushed the boulder hence,
Which now stays stuck, by such a great offence,
No mighty king or lions roaring strong
Could hope to move that massive stone along.

So in this gloom, the home of all the dead
Where not the ways of life be ever tread,
The Lord lay at length, in full recline,
He is as He was at the hour of nine.

It was no storm, just whisper in a breeze,
That echoed through the tomb with softest ease,
And those small words cast off the shades of night:
As Christ rose up and said, “Let there be light.”

The stone flew off, and sunshine flooded through
And Angels sang as through the air they flew,
The bells in Heaven rang and prophets cried:
“This is the true Messiah; Death has died!”

Yet for this triumph Christ but smiled small,
Mankind was saved, to him this mattered all,
And through this Word lived on what is called light,
Which darkness could not comprehend, or fight.

He was the ram to Abraham from God,
Who took the heavy blow on altar broad,
This sacrificial Lamb has saved the earth
Through both His painful death and great rebirth.

How different was this tomb than manger where
Your mother sang to You and held with care
Her newborn Son? Your birth was in a cave
Just like Your new rebirth was from the grave.

You were no mighty lion, just Lamb quite meek,
You were no sovereign king, though hardly weak,
You were a carpenter, so very poor,
This was your choice, You wanted nothing more.

So for this Easter season bless us all,
And help us to respond when You should call,
We thank You for the gift made from your strife,
You’ve given us Yourself: eternal life.

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Whiskers commented on The Greatest Gift


Beautiful and deeply insightful poem J, loved every line of it. You are an amazing young talent with a lifetime of writing ahead of you. Blessings, Whiskers



Thank you! I'm glad you liked it!

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

JAlden’s Poems (20)

Title Comments
Title Comments
The Phantom and the Beast 0
The Artist 1
The Place I Know 0
Making Sense of Things 1
The Star Beyond My Sight 0
The Greatest Gift 1
Meditations on a Hillside 0
For Christine 0
Conversing With the Stars 1
A Quiet Nighttime Meditation 1
The Song of Orpheus 5
The Hall of Memory 6
Avalon 2
My Dove 3
On Life 2
The Dreaded Book of Nevermore 2
To the Sylph 1
The Olympian 2
A Lullaby 3
Your Eyes 3