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by Ward Stothers

Risen Holy God,
It feels like the apocalypse down here
At these war and worst times;
Grant us courage and fidelity
To sing God’s love
And be His sheep
Tooting Easter horns in restless meadows;
Touting peace with torpedo accuracy.

Let us accept God’s blessing
Sealed in gift wrap—
Precious life—
Waged for you
Carried now by you
Resurrection
Who are you, O next in life’s line?
Or are you a just practicing confessional caroler?
Will you feed your lengthening prodigal famine,
flood your thirst—
Break the proud fast?
God waits.   God ponders.

You do not call us to die for the world, Lord
Or to close the ark door.
Your death is enough to capture all, as innocent;
Over high hurdles and before convulsing wealth,
We are charged to show distant attitudes,
Like compassion, consideration
Life as hearing aids for those we love
And those we struggle, with hating.

Let us live for you, and with you, O Certain and Close, God of grace
Mimicking your life
Poised with good news
Peculiar and poignant
Authentic and ardent.

God, Don’t forget errant nations,
Drowning in the swamp of violence
And horrific hate.
Unleash your chorusing faithful.
Place us awkward bundled with tears,
As heralds of joy;
The Lord has come.
We will do it.  We will serve O Lord.

Look upon the death,
Giving palettes for living rest,
Shelling them with ensuing mercy
Standing them up as targets for peace    
Let them hear our voiced oneness
 shaping justice,
Offering a corralling compassion,
Touching them with a love that burns, lights up and fires—faith !!

And may these fruits of the Spirit
Hang like sugared marbles
On their clustered vines,
And grow them a vineyard   of Life!!

As we examine the lost body this day
From the remainder grave clothes—
People, Jesus is in the air
Alive and inviting,
Near, and willing to comfort.
He has risen!!

Copyright © 2004 Ward Stothers