Holy Saturday Poem by Steven Federle
Holy Saturday
Storms pass, winds subside
life abides.
See how the cottonwoods trees
spread new leaves,
fill the blank sky with
emerald sheen
as waving vines praise
the living spirit
of spring,
for soon the shrouded sun will flame
through constraining mists
and in glory rise to complete
this forgiven world
and set it free.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
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4/24/2024 9:14:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
'nice poem, very thought provoking