Movement 4: Up From Death

Hear the widening crescendo,
Feel the rush of silent wings.
Time to crush the innuendo.
Time to fix the broken rings.

Break the spell of wicked fixers.
We don't fit into your mold.
You can drink your fine elixirs.
You can have your precious gold.

How can we express the rage
for the injury inflicted?
Rancid cycles age to age
by the prophets all predicted.

Rising Son, up from death,
makes a promise to us all.
Fills our being with His breath.
He will not let us fall!

Visions deep within the marrow,
muscles ready for the kill.
Spirit will accept the arrow
hardened by the tempest will.

Rescued from the deep crevasses,
snatched up gently from harm's way.
Untold gains outweigh the losses.

Like the boldest mountaineer
scaling death traps of Denali.