In Three Days...

She could still see the soldiers march past her.
She could still hear the jeers of the crowd
as her Master had staggered and fallen;
and the taunts they had shouted out loud.

She could still see the scars on His body,
and the pain that was etched on His face
as they hammered the nails in so roughly.
She could still feel the hate in that place.

She could still sense the sky growing darker.
She could still see that wound in His side.
And she knelt there bewildered, despairing,
as she thought how her Master had died.

And now, how could she show she still loved Him
or repay Him for all He had done?
She had come to the tomb very early
but His crucified body had gone…



Why do you weep, My beloved?
Let Me dry those tears in your eyes.
Did you not believe when I told you
that in three days your Saviour would rise?


© Kathleen Wilks