On half the trees quick buds are seen
Where glued-up buds have been.
Out in the rain God’s Acre stretches green,
Its harvest quick tho’ still unseen:
For there the Life hath been.
If Christ hath died His brethren well may die,
Sing in the gate of death,
lay by
This life without a sigh:
For Christ hath died and good it is to die;
To sleep when so He lays us by,
Then wake without a sigh.
Yes, Christ hath died, yea, Christ is risen again:
Wherefore both life and death grow plain
To us who wax and wane;
For Christ
Who rose shall die no more again:
Amen:
till He makes all things plain
Let us wax on and wane.
Beautiful poem. I posted a poem by Mary Oliver in March, about the donkey that carried Christ on Palm Sunday. I love poetry.
ReplyDelete