THE EMPTY TOMB

 

Upon the dawn of that sacred day,

When shadows fled and darkness gave way,

To the rising sun's golden ray,

A story of wonder began to play.

To the sepulchre, they made their way,

With spices and tears in their hearts' array,

Their steps heavy, their minds astray,

In grief's embrace, they sought to stay.

But as they neared, a sight unseen,

Unveiled before them, a miraculous scene,

The stone rolled back, the tomb pristine,

No trace of the body where once it had been.

Perplexed they stood, in silent awe,

As two figures appeared, without a flaw,

In garments bright, like angels raw,

Their presence a beacon of hope's draw.

"Why seek ye the living among the dead?"

Their voices echoed, filling each head,

"He is not here, but risen instead,

Remember His words," they gently said.

In Galilee's hills, He spoke with grace,

Of trials to come, of death's embrace,

But also of triumph, in the holy place,

Of resurrection's power, in boundless space.

Their memories stirred, their doubts erased,

They rushed to tell, with hearts ablaze,

The eleven and others, in fervent craze,

Of the empty tomb, and what it portrays.

Yet disbelief lingered, like a stubborn haze,

Their words dismissed, in skeptical gaze,

But Peter, moved by a flicker of faith's blaze,

Ran to the sepulchre, in a hurried daze.

Stooping low, he beheld the sight,

Of linen cloths, in the morning light,

Left behind, as evidence bright,

Of resurrection's triumph, shining white.

Departing then, his heart alight,

With wonder and awe, in the morning's height,

For in that moment, faith took flight,

In the resurrection's glorious might.