With Spring appareled in blossoms,
she gently wipes away
the soiled sights of wintertime,
to unveil and awaken
the days of warmth and of glamour,
as aromas of blooms by the billion
surprise the clouds
with beauty’s spikenards.
This same absorbing pungent
of sickening rot and vile decay,
exposing tombs unoccupied,
while filled with scented wreaths
and fragrant bouquets,
as though the fields and meadows
required more breathing space
to demonstrate the beauty of Easter,
alive beyond the blossoms,
eternal like the wind
that carries blessed aromas.
The sweep of beauty
can rival the sun,
with all its waves and streamers of light,
for beauty and light are twins
of solar generation.
To form the symbols of Easter joy
productions of earth must fail,
since joy requires the breath and effort
of human composition.
When Peter responded a third time
I love you,
he could have articulated the words
if only joy consumed him;
like Mary’s joy
when she learned the gardener’s disguise.
With thousands such anecdotes,
the joy of Easter rests unexpressed,
like scattered stones
that hint of a builder’s dream.
Recruit a thousand thousand witnesses
to tell of joy and tears,
for tears of joy flow abundantly
when one embraces Mercy,
with joy increasing
the more God’s Mercy is embraced,
until Mercy and Easter transport
the same exultation of eternal life,
the Easter a sharing in risen life of the Son,
the Mercy a sharing of the Father’s life
and both must bring a shout of joy
or the heart would burst with life.
Rough shout of joy can sound
like choking tears,
until they take the rhythm of the heart,
and then they sing in Alleluia,
until all nature roars
as though the sound were rising
from each of the person’s glad voice.
Bonaventure Stefun, OFM Cap.