The heaps of cold and white are gone
Expectant is the moon
And birds long missed
Will rule the morn
With signal spring-time tune
The crocus trembles 'neath the scruff
Its purple touch to raise
The royal hue
Long overdue
Suggesting Paschal days
For Christ has died
And lived again
The Passion's winter week
Disciples' fear transformed in awe
And faith's thaw for the meek.


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