The Meaning of Easter

I’ve seen His towers across the mire
My focus dimmed- not lost
I’m discarded nettles in the fire
Or a sea-worn vessel tossed.

I’ve kept at bay through truth He gave
'Have squandered chance of gain
I’m living free but still a slave
And yet He will remain.

The caustic thoughts I’d often traced
Through fear or carelessness
Are scars and ruts my soul’s embraced
To subsidize distress.

I ‘ve glimpsed the sun behind each cloud
But am never in the light
I ‘ve scattered borrowed sands of time
As days turned into night.

The trumps of woes (unmuted) blare
To becon my accent
But searched to find some smoother stair
 With others who dissent.

I’ve turned His story into mine
And tweaked those things that fit
The tune I sing is ill designed
 Which I readily admit

But in my mind my Christ would rise-
His Spirit re-disclose
God’s depths of Grace, the devil’s lies
And the fact that he arose.

~ R.J. Bates