‘Twas
late in 2019 when the virus began
Bringing
chaos and fear to all people, each land.
People
were sick, hospitals full,
Doctors
overwhelmed, no one in school.
As
winter gave way to the promise of spring,
The
virus raged on, touching peasant and king.
People
hid in their homes from the enemy unseen.
They
YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.
April
approached and churches were closed.
“There
won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.
“There
won’t be church services, and egg hunts are out.
No
reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”
Holy
Week started, as bleak as the rest.
The
world was focused on masks and on tests.
“Easter
can’t happen this year,” it proclaimed.
“Online
and at home, it just won’t be the same.”
Maundy
Thursday, Good Friday, the days came and went.
The
virus pressed on; it just would not relent.
The
world woke Sunday and nothing had changed.
The
virus still menaced, the people, estranged.
“Pooh
pooh to the saints,” the world was grumbling.
“They’re
finding out now that no Easter is coming.
“They’re
just waking up! We know just what they’ll do!
Their
mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And
then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.
“That
noise,” said the world, “will be something to hear.”
So
it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.
And
it did hear a sound coming through all the skies.
It
started down low, then it started to rise.
But
the sound wasn’t depressed. Why, this sound was triumphant!
It
couldn’t be so! But it grew with abundance!
The
world stared around, popping its eyes.
Then
it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!
Every
saint in every nation, the tall and the small,
Was
celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!
It
hadn’t stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow
or other, it came just the same!
And
the world with its life quite stuck in quarantine
Stood
puzzling and puzzling. “Just how can it be?”
“It
came without bonnets, it came without bunnies,
It
came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”
Then
the world thought of something it hadn’t before.
“Maybe
Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe
Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
And
what happened then? Well....the story’s not done.
What
will YOU do? Will you share with that one
Or
two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will
you share the source of your life in this fight?
The
churches are empty - but so is the tomb,
And
Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.
So
this year at Easter, let this be our prayer,
As
the virus still rages all around, everywhere.
May
the world see hope when it looks at God’s people.
May
the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May
the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May
the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May
2020 be known as the year of survival,
But
not only that - Let it start a revival!
Thank you very much for the beautiful poem, very meaningful and powerful!
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