Spring 2020

A winter long and dark, a cheerless time has passed,
With sighs the earth awakes, the buds unfurl their blooms.

Yet anxious eyes are blind, and tears blur the mind

And many hearts lie stone-cold in their tombs.

The gentle April sun may raise a weary smile,

But frozen souls won’t heed a thaw they can’t conceive.

The signs of life are near, creation’s goodness clear,

But even the believers need to grieve.

And yet, and yet – the Spring! No social distancing

Can disallow the trees, the blossom-scented breeze,

A hint of something new, a hope that won’t defuse,

A sense the world was somehow made for peace.

To cynics Easter’s just a metaphor for Spring,

A way of saying “Life survives another day”

But we whose eyes have glimpsed the glory of the King

Suspect that they have got it the wrong way.

  

The Earth’s no accident, its birth was deeply meant

By One who shaped with care this well-appointed sphere;

The wisdom of His Word is built into His world:

Each season speaks to those with ears to hear.

For long before His planet felt its first green shoot

He saw the twisted path His children would pursue;

Before the Christ was born, He knew he’d wear the thorns,

But it was the only way to make us new.

The Tree of Death stood tall, its fruit a woman’s seed,

He drew our poisons in, the virus of our sin,

Then plucked by Winter’s hand, lay deep beneath the land;

In mystery a new world would begin.

And countless springs would dawn before that Easter morn

The Tree of Life regrew and spread His seed,

But they were metaphors for something so much more:

And now He stands and beckons, “Come and eat.”