The Bird and Baby

The darkness cast,
Has been a thousand years.
The silence er’,
Has seemed a thousand more.

The hope spoken,
As a soft whisper,
Seems a trifle more,
Than a vapor.

And in the night,
When the earth was still,
From eons of pain,
Everything changed.

Light shone amber rays o’er the hillside,
Every creature who laid in waiting sang,
For on the blessed of all mornings,
Death was slain.

He didn’t go peaceful like a babe deep in slumber,
Or a soul drifting slowly into sleep.
Kicking and screaming came the death of all deaths,
Laying under the heel of the King.

And how the battle was finished,
Oh! The victory won on the blessed first of dawns,
As the angels of Heaven and all the Seraphim’s high,
Cried “Glory be to the Son!”

It was finished.

There is no separation,
See the veil it is torn.
No more darkness and shadow,
No more blood to adorn.
Every penance and lamb,
Every shroud to be worn,
Has been given no use,
By He who’s firstborn.
As a man He lived blameless,
And yet He was scorned.
We beat Him and hung Him,
And crowned him with thorns.
But the grave could not hold Him,
It was as He had warned,
As he put death to death,
On that glorious morn’.
And how the earth it rejoices,
As we hear Heaven’s horn.
Now as daughters and sons,
We are bought and reborn.
So, rejoice on this day,
For all that’s in store.
The King is on His throne,
And shall be forevermore.

Game Over

-Taylor Glenn Pritchard