Son Rise

I'm The sun rises after the storm
And lights each tip of grass

The blooming flowers touched with dew

Shine like beads of glass

The garden silent, still, waiting.

The whisper of the wind

Seems to speak of hope and life

Brighter then it's been.

Quietly a woman weeps

For a friend she's lost.

Illuminated by the morning sun

Toward the tomb she walks.

She approaches the memorial

But to her great despair

The tomb is wholly empty

But for linen laying there.

Somebody approaches, 

The woman asks him where

They have laid her Lord

Her friend who wasn't there.

The man looks toward the woman

With love and sympathy 

Quietly he whispers 

He says to her, "Mary."

Such power in a word

Such meaning in one name

"Master!" She replies

For it is He, the same.

She reaches out her hand

"Touch me not," he says,

"I have yet to go unto

My Father in Heaven."

Such radiance in a smile

Such love in just one glance.

The victory o'er the grave was won

Eternity advanced.

Mary, filled with newfound grace

Thanks him with her eyes.

She has witnessed joyfully 

The hope of the Son rise.