My aunt loved springtime, and she wrote about it quite a bit. Since this is Easter, and it's April, I thought this would be a good poem for today.
by Veneta Donaldson
Who stands upon a hill with April near
Shares in ecstasy of faith's eternal birth;
And knows the reason of his unshed tear
Delaying grief that he may bear the joy of earth.
Who stands upon a hill with April near
Must feel rejuvenation stir within his breast;
And know that hate and man's condemning fear
Before this ageless faith subordinately rest.
This is part of a group of poems by Veneta Donaldson. A brief bio and the beginning of the series can be found here: Veneta Donaldson: A Poet in the Family.
No comments:
Post a Comment