Easter
In the new day dawning garden fresh with dew,
where the hills rise up behind, I’ll wait for you,
I’ll hear the rush of wings, the catch of song,
the breeze that stirs the wood from ages long,
the sparrows as they chirrup in the eaves,
the soft rain’s patter on the shining leaves.
And I shall know that Spring is life re-born,
in scented air, the mystic light of morn
as sun shines through the mist, the bell that calls
the faithful to their prayers, the stream that falls
through mossy dells new starred with celandines:
God’s love revealed, renewed in sights and signs.
And Easter hymns are sung from stall and pew,
with splintered sun in stained glass shining through,
to light the church in red and green and gold,
the colours of the Spring in field and fold.
Our Christ has conquered death! Far though we roam,
the journey of our life’s a journey home.
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