The pear tree's thin white blossoms sing,
and blue-grape hyacinth bells all ring--
a tremolo against the wild warm winds.
It's Easter.
The day Death died.




And I can't help but think how I, too, will one day rest beneath the fall leaves and the winter snow. I'll leave quietly then--no frenzied bucket list to clutter my last days.
No. I plan to come back.
So all the things I haven't done can wait for that long morning in the sunlight.
My lively spring.
My resurrection day.
"Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime." --Martin Luther.




4 comments:
Exactly how I feel this morning!
"The day Death died"... I love that! I'm loving your spring pictures, too. You must be just enough further south than we are because we saw not one lilac bloom today but the promise of a beautiful showing very soon!
I have a lilac bush against the warm south wall of my house. It blooms early and often unseen.
Hope, that is what Easter is all about!
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