Easter has come, and we are prisoners still,
And feel the loss of all we would have planned
To celebrate the ancient, timeless thrill
Of resurrection, as throughout this land,
Throughout this world indeed, through ages past
The unremembered multitude of those
Who have been saved by Jesus’ dying grace
Have marked the day when he in victory rose.
Easter has come, and we are scattered wide,
Each of us mostly now confined to home,
Like John in lonely exile, kept apart;
We taste some part of Paul’s constraints in Rome.
We have afflicted brothers, sisters, friends
Among the family of our God worldwide;
With saints whose greater trials yet have no end
We feel our kinship more this Eastertide.
Easter has come, yet still we look and long
To be together face to face again;
And further still, we’re waiting for the day
When our dear Saviour comes again to reign:
When all disease, death, grief and sin are gone,
When all before his glorious face will fall,
And we will know his pure and perfect love
Was worth our pain, our lives, our souls, our all.
By Anne Woodcock
Anne is married to Pete Woodcock and works as an Editor for The Good Book company.
Anne has written a poem for every month of the year in 2019 which you can read on the Cornerstone blog.