Rising of the Sun
Tired, burdened and weak
even his feats disguise as defeat.
A small city on a hill weeps,
another prophet killed for good deeds.
At the edge of darkness, with no dawn,
Waiting, for the rising of the sun.
When evil’s exposed, does night give to day?
I’m still looking for daybreak.
Tie my hand and pluck my eye,
I’m the one who deserves to die.
Even endless nights hope for dawn,
Waiting, for the rising of the sun.
Palm leaves and a donkey lead
to blood and sweat in Gethsemane.
”Hosanna” turns “Crucify!”
The innocent lays down his life.
Prisoners pray, pray for dawn,
Waiting, for the rising of the sun.
Thorn and nails, crown and cross,
king hangs like spanish moss.
Followers flee and sheep scatter;
in Galilee, they will be gathered.
Not a one lost, when all’s said and done,
Waiting for the rising of the Son.
Soldiers gamble for the one cloth left,
no one knows the odds of their bet.
Clueless to what’s truly odd:
hanging from a tree, he is God.
No one had a clue, only the good die young.
No one knew of the rising of the Son.
Traitor confesses “innocent,”
governor pronounces “without blemish,”
Spear confirms his gruesome death,
priest said “better for one to die than nation perish.”
No one knew, the perfect died young.
No one had a clue of the rising of the Son.
Huddled behind locked doors,
whispers of things stranger than folklore:
Our Christ dead and hope floored,
yet angels and women with visions of our Lord.
Sin overcome, oh the war is won,
Waiting, for the rising of the Son.
Royal lion, our passover lamb,
making new sons of Abraham.
Every star and grain of sand,
held in the palm of his nail-scarred hand.
Counted is each precious little one,
Waiting, for the rising of the Son.
Demons shriek as devil’s weep,
saints are sealed while angels preach.
Babies sing and stones cry out,
everyone join with songs and shouts.
All believers, of every tribe and tongue,
Singing, of the rising of the Son.
Sun rises from the east,
ends of the earth “to the wedding feast!”
Dead breathe while lame leap,
mute sing at what the blind see.
Come all, come, to Jerusalem.
Come all, come, for the rising of the Son.