The old, old story.

Whilst trying to come up with a new Easter poem this year I found I simply couldn't.  What more could be added?  And so I wrote this

I cannot come up with a new line of thought
On Easter, when God each human soul sought
with a passion so deep, that He turned His face
from his son, an act of selfless grace.
His zeal for us, His aching desire
To do whatever was required
To pave the way for our return
How can mankind such great love spurn?

I cannot think how great the cost
To reclaim one who wandered lost
And aimlessly through life’s vast maze.
How can we not bow down in praise?
How can we still ignore His cry
When we know He sent His son to die?
Why would we turn and walk away
From the truth of the risen Christ today?

I have no words to offer here
To bring a new message, for if it’s not clear
from all we’ve heard and all we know
there’s no fresh news I can bestow.
For it is finished, done, complete
No other love can yet compete
with this amazing love divine
I rest my case in these few lines.

A verse from my Sunday school days
“The old, old story it is ever new
The old, old story praise the Lord tis true
That Jesus died for me as well as you
I love the old, old story”

Karen Holmes
April 5 2012