Crucified on that hillside in Calvary, our Lord Jesus, then,
Arising three days later is when His ascension did begin.
Perishing on that old rugged cross, forgiving of every sin,
Humankind, all walked as blind until our Lord's life to end.
Easter, a Holy time, not meant as reflective of eggs to hunt,
No Easter bunny to carry his basket, no hippy-hopping stunt.
As pagan as those wish it to be, focuses on all children's fun,
This precious day, Easter, mocked before the day has begun.
The Lord Jesus' death not meant as a sales pitch, as a show,
Honoring Him and for what He stood, this why we all do know.
Every Easter Sunday our God's love sent to all congregations,
His sacrifice of His only son, deserving the highest of ovations.
© 2018 whonunuwho