The Son Also Rises

Picks up the whole horizon, how can it not

The weight of the world, wood, and wild

Sits upon its very shoulders, that is its lot

To blaze and burn, its nature is far from mild

The leaves, rocks, and rivers are on fire

A golden thread it weaves through the world

A world of darkness, lifted from the mire

Land of shadow and night, utterly unfurled

The heat of worlds, gently upon the shoulder rests

The sun, at the birth of each day, will rise

Clothes the world in light, where all nature nests

The sun, day by day, shall not know demise

Night’s shadow has swiftly descended

The Son wanders cold halls of darkness

But the day is not so quickly ended

Breaks the night with His glory in starkness

Picks up the whole horizon, how can He not

The weight of sin, engulfed in mercy mild,

Sat upon His shoulders, without a second thought

To seek and save, His nature is gentle and mild

The day breaks forth, as if set on fire

A scarlet thread weaves through the world

A world of darkness, lifted from the mire

Land of shadow and sin, utterly unfurled

The sin of the world upon His shoulders will rest

The Son, at the birth of third day, will rise

Clothes the world in light, O, we are blest

That the Son, day by day, shall not know demise

For on that third day did the Son also rise