A Poem For Spring

This was shared during church on Easter Sunday. It was written by a member of our congregation. Too lovely not to share.

Photo Credit: oakjane (Flickr)

Spring is a long time coming this year

Winter hangs on and on. The screen
of the greening world goes blank
with cold and snow. The earth itself

tells us it is so: we cannot escape.
Winds of destruction blow.
Waters rise. Fires burn.
The very ground shifts

below. Is earth a tomb?

We bury our bulbs in fall, then,
when nothing more than shrunken
lumps with dry, flaking skin.
We believe the promise

of life anew. The earth itself
tells us it is true. The dead
of winter passes, raging still.
Can we see, beneath the snow,

sprigs of daffodil. Earth is a womb.