The passion of spring awakes
with the blooming of the serviceberry,
first blooms for the early spring graves.
The rocky paths are soon strewn,
not with palm fronds,
but the blown blossoms of redbuds,
a confetti of papery pinks and faded roses.
Earth’s resurrection promise
is finally in full view
as the dogwoods bring forth their flowers,
decorating the hillsides
in Christ’s wounds.
Rain falls on the just and the unjust
And we are all grateful for it
Lent has moved slowly and our penance
Has been dull as grayed snow
Now the Holy Week brightens
In pear blossoms and birdsong
Soon the ridges will green
And the hollows will be decorated in Christs wounds.