And the power and the might of all things held their breath on that night when the earth stood still on her axis. His name was called out from the mouths of rocks. They split open in reverence of Him and in defiance of his enemies.

This man was brought through wood and fire, through womb and darkness to end as such that a flower would dare not open. His power new no bounds, his face the brightest of whites and yet he dimmed and left righteousness for sorrow. I knew him, a glimpse of almighty, a blanket for all, I knew him.

But he rose, with the power bestowed, he rose unto this earth. It trembled and it moved, it cried and it raged and he rose still. The hand of his father struck the skies and the guilty were buried in their trangression. His power moved the stars and his love calmed his rage. He moved through the mountains and the entrance rolled and freed him. The fields parted, the river sang for this Yeshua, this Christ, this king of earth. His right hand was righteousness and his voice was love. His footsteps were anger and he smote he who dwells within.

The power of the father knew the depth of the wind, and it shook the foundations of all creation. He rose, he rose and walked and made known his intentions. He was the word, one cannot go against the word of God.

J.M. Prater