Easter
Metaphor

By
~Joyce Rupp

Creator
of springtime,
how can it be that every
year
I forget the miracles
visiting
the land in the form of
fresh leaves,
laughing flowers,
greening grass.
Winter holds a strong
power over me.

I lose the memory of vibrant
vigor,
the unseen energy
raising
dead earthen things to
awakening life.

Risen
One, dwelling within me,
how can it be that I
forget you,
your passionate grace
tending my soul,
your constant stream of
hope
rising up through the
dead ground
of my brown, barrened
prayer. 

I turn
to you in this season of spring,
bowing gratefully
to every growing plant,
every flourishing flower,
for each one sings an
Easter metaphor
full of memory,
proclaiming your wild embrace
of my inner life, a life
holding the promise
of an eternal return to
spring.

Contributed
by ~liz Sorensen Wessel

Photos of Tom's garden by ~liz