A poem written by my 10-year-old son, Lincoln . . . . .
Rolling aside with hardly a sound,
The stone of the tomb lay upon the ground,
As the morning dawned clear and bright,
No one ever saw such a glorious sight.
Light filled the cave, where shadows had been,
Shattering the chains of slaving sin,
The demons of Satan screamed and fell on their faces,
And the angels took off their armor, and put on curling laces.
Heavenly trumpets from the sky to below,
“For forgiveness, do these golden notes flow!”.
While the night before was young, and the people slept,
Christ took up his sword, by the name of Life,
Charging at the foe, blade to blade they met,
Cleaving and thrusting, like corn to a scythe,
Un-weakened, undaunted, by the will of Sin,
He fought for forgiveness, he fought for his Fatherly Kin.
Until victorious stood he in the tomb,
Then he cast his arm unto the sea, under the midnight full moon.
The light of the moon is beautiful, the sun in the sky may be bright.
But for me, I choose the path, lit by the Candle of Christ.