Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Our Monarch

As I gaze upon a butterfly
Whose wondrous beauty lies impaled
Against a background, oh so dark
Within my heart I want to cry
Yet marvel that with life curtailed
It still retains such beautiful marks

Where are the days when it was free
To move with grace from leaf to flower
Transposing life that all might live?
Compatible with bird and bee
Regardless of the fleeting hour
And then its freedom it did give

Beyond that time – before it all
Before its wings had broken free
It rested motionless and then
It cast aside its guarding shawl
And  spread its wings for all to see
The truth that it was born again.

My Lord is like a butterfly
For was He not impaled the same
As that sweet creature that you see?
(Against a background oh, so dark,)
Did He not rise? Did He not die?
Did He not suffer nails and pain
To give the gift of life to me?

He moved with grace upon this plane
From Bethlehem to Calvary
To spread His word that all might live
To show we can be born again
To save a wretched soul like me
And then His freedom he did give.

When strangers nailed him to a cross
Against that darkened scene around
They hung Him there for all to see
That through Him they’ll not suffer loss
For when they put Him in the ground
He rose again to set them free

I’ve seen the beauty of His love
Embrace two thousand torrid years
Which like a stone have rolled away
And with His guidance from above
Endured the anguish, pain and tears
I know I’m not alone today

For He still moves around this world
Transposing life that all might live
Call to Him and He’ll reply
Then feel your captive soul unfurl
Receive the life He has to give

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