Poem for Easter

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by Eliabeth Mason

EASTER BLOSSOM

Our cherry tree stands pale against the darkening Easter clouds.

It stands on hallowed ground,

with branches swathed in blushing pink,

like holy shrouds.

Each bough is heavy laden now with perfect,

Precious, scented blooms.

Could they support the son of God?

The weight of sin and painful gloom?

After a while,

the shy and fragile petals pearl the gentle April breeze.

Soon we will feel forgiveness;

Christ’s sacrifice with hope and joy released.

The veil of blossom disappears,

replaced by spheres of ever deepening shades of red.

Our righteous saviour died for us;

was humbled, crucified and bled.

Once gathered in, the ruby stains

retained by guilt forever now have gone.

Our Lord has washed us by his blood,

The victory for all is won.