The earth is giving birth again
And it is Springtime.
Trees burst into bloom
And the air is warm and sweet
As if God is breathing on us again
As God did on the first morning of our world.
It is hard
To turn my thoughts to death and dying
And meditate on the meaning of the cross.
It is painful
To think of Jesus,
Who loved his life as few ever did,
Being confronted with dying
Just when the hills are alive with flowers
And breathing the fragrance of Spring
Before he dies.
I remember all this in the season of Lent
And deep in the depths of my soul
I know this man spoke for all the love
I have always longed for
But not enough to give my trust to.
I know this man spoke for all the truth
I have always wanted to hear
But not enough to live by.
Today I will let the wintertime of my despair
That I may stand once again
Beneath his cross
And breathe in his promise.
By William Stephenson, Ph.D
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