03/31/2024
My Easter Poem 2024
THE WHISPERED BREATH
In dead of night, the dead lay still,
The weight of loss so grim
The sky marooned with flickering hope,
Filled with the breath of Him.
His body was limp in a darkened tomb,
The warmth all drained away.
Who could see in the silence there
Any hope in the waking day?
The sun came laughing to greet the morn,
It came with other plans,
Filling the failing body at rest,
With a breath to sing through the lands.
That Breath was the Spirit, the Giver of life,
The Father’s Exhaled joy.
The Son resurrected was fully alive,
The hope for each girl and boy.
That Breath has echoed through the years,
To speak of life made true.
He whispers at Easter, so all may hear,
“I am alive to be here with you.”
MF 3/31/2024
Art by Abigail Folsom, "The Listening Point"
