Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

Trees in the water Are feet of the world, Branches curling To tree-sons and daughters. They’re praying we’ll save them Redeem human treason And live.

I’m a leaf stirring on the edge of the lawn I’m a flower straining for light I’m wild, I’m free I’m dandelion-seeding Kitten in flight.

A daffodil once smiled at me Desiring to be wild and free I clipped his wings While bees did sing Now dandelions seed his green.

Yellow daffodil, green grass, Be careful, let the lawnmower pass, By yellow, shining, bright delight. My daffodil, green leafed Is yellow breeding Silver dandelion seeds.

A poet decides the verbiage, writes Sweet mysteries to the page, so why Do words decide against this flight Of wimsy, rage deriding Poetic decision?

April showers bring May flowers, or so I’m told they should, But daffodils are drowning, sunk in April’s glorious mud; Would flower if they could.

Why do I choose belief each day In this mysterious truth? I’ve tried but can’t explain away His absence from the tomb. My Savior lives

Soldiers are good at knowing when people are dead. Guards are good at watching them. But God returns Him living and forgiving. Glory to God.

We left the church in silence, altar bare, no flowers or candles there. We shouted Crucify , once sang Hosannah to his name. Then resurrection came.