“Holy Saturday: A Poem”

Written by: Steven White

Date written: April 11, 2020

 Grief, grief - Jesus here and dwelling among us, yet now gone;

Gave us hope, showed us the Way,

But now gone, in one cosmic day;

Pit in my stomach,

Loss in my soul, needle in the hay;

The feeling beginning this day is, well... cold Saturday.

Why, why - The question screams within,

When I look at that Tree,

“Why you? It should’ve been me!”

The Perfect, Righteous, Holy Son;

You never deserved a death like this one.

Where, where - My heart beats to know where You are;

Still in the tomb, descended to the dead, buried because of the Fall?

Or now high and exalted, victorious over all?

Once near to us, then quickly away,

But on that Cross you felt oddly, warmly here with us to stay.

But, but - An alien thought arises,

Could there be, maybe be, a rich reason for this day?

These feelings, these questions feel right this holy Saturday;

While so sudden, so quiet, so tragic,

Could this day of nothingness suddenly be preparing for us an even “deeper magic”?

Hope, hope - A new word, a new feeling forming deep inside;

Something I dimly recall,

But could not have predicted, no not at all!

Could it be? A third option, far surpassing fleeting life or death at the grave?

Resurrection! The Grace of the Father, displayed in the Son - mighty to save!

It seems this will come tomorrow,

When “finished” will be all our Friday-Saturday sorrow.

Wait, wait - Wow, what a turn!

This day takes new meaning with this Spirit revelation;

This day no longer a prison or final destination,

But now a symbol of belief,

A patient, waiting belief in this Jesus who endured our world of sin and grief.

Comfort, comfort - My people, says our God;

Jesus is with us, death is defeated;

Life is replete now with everlasting freedom!

Fullness and joy with Him - both now and forever one Day;

All this we ponder, we wait for, on this now Blessed Saturday.

Amen. Come Lord Jesus!