Resurrection
Committee of Friends,
,Secretary of friends,
The Chief acolyte:
All mourners,
Of decaying mind.
Singers of death,
Of one whose shadow,
They failed to touch.
In the quiet hours,
Of this haven in this valley,
Young lions and their mothers,
Gathered in dance, of death and life.
They made their demand
Loud and clear for all to hear,
In dead of night.
They ask for body living; or dead.
Of him that fathered the lion.
In Dark and friendly night,
Shone reckless bright light,
On serene black face.
The stem of palm tree,
Owner of words and wording,
Mentor of lions and their mothers,
Known to have died many times.
Known to have wrestled with lions,
The only ones that can floor him,
For no mortal can touch him.
Mother and lion gaze in wonder,
With one accord,
They break in song of yesteryears,
When lions joined in war and dance.
They fill the night with one new song,
Shouting Amen, Alleluial And he is alive,
In the dawning of the night.
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