Cross-Sun.


Easter Sunrise


Starring at her gravestone,
At the break of day,
On my weekly visit,
Since she passed away.

Glimmers of first sunlight,
Chase away the dark,
As the brilliant shades of light,
Brightens up the park.

Every morning's different,
As the seasons come and go.
Wintertime will find me standing,
In the winter snow.

In winter's chill you realize,
That death is dark and cold,
And it may visit anytime,
To young, not only old.

In fall it makes you realize,
Beneath the autumn moon,
We reach the autumn of our life,
In years it seems too soon.

Standing here in summertime,
The cool breeze whisking past,
Realizing as in life,
Summer goes too fast.

But springtime here is different,
And especially Easter Day,
I always take some extra time,
To bow my head and pray.

On Easter morn the sun appears,
Much brighter than before.
It seems as if God, in His glory,
Opened Heaven's door.

The brightness of the Easter mom,
That's glowing all around,
Makes us realize our loved ones,
Are not in this ground.

This is just an earthly place,
Where we can come to pray.
This is just a temporary place,
Where loved ones lay.

Easter makes me realize,
Her death was not the end,
Because He was the first to rise,
It's how we enter in.

So on this brilliant Easter morn,
As earth begins anew,
I take the time to focus,
And to bring all things in view.

I know one day I'll see Him,
Face to face with Him I'll be,
Because of Easter morning,
Jesus died to set me free.

I will look upon His face,
And praise Him for my life,
And I know she will be with Him,
My faithful, loving wife.

[ by James A. Kisner © 2001 (PoppyK1@aol.com) -- {used with permission} ]

       

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