Writ & Whimsy

From long before the world was spoken forth,
the Father’s plan was fixed in triune love
and at the crucial moment set in time
His foreknown aim was finally revealed.

In incarnation God stepped into flesh
and carried to the cross our guilty charge.
We killed him without knowing hope would spring
out from the very blood upon our hands.

Three days within the shroud-black tomb was hid
the hope of human frailty dead and cold.
But God, who holds the power of life and death
by resurrection shattered hell and sin.

The tomb holds nothing now but joy and wonder
for those who know that what it held is gone.
The veil has passed away, now torn asunder.
The visage of the risen King has shone.

This poem came out of an exercise I did on iambic pentameter with my poetry group. See if you can find the “easter egg” in the title.