Resurrection

The dawn was trembling over dusty Judah's land,
Shaking the final remnants of the morning's sleep.
In great expectancy, and cold, a trembling band,
A late spring entered into the city, deep.

The pillars of the poplars, tall and pyramid-like,
Were silent still in horror and in grief,
And in a yellowed pouch, a wandering beggar, on his hike,
Carried the scent of fields that bore no sheaf.

All nature held its breath in one deep, inward sigh
Before the Mystery blazing from within.
And all the hopes of ages that were waiting by
Stood listening at the door, to let them in.

From out the flame of one small, flickering lamp,
A shadow darted on the wall of stone –
A fragment of a garden, from which a sudden ramp
In the ringing, silent Garden of Gethsemane, alone.

And then, with myriads of invisible wings unfurled,
A miracle of miracles to the world was shown –
The sun's smile lit up every face in all the world,
And the astonished forest whispered in a tone.

A bird-call bloomed and blossomed through the Universe,
All earthly nature started then to sing,
Beholding the eternal's victory over the perverse,
And knowing the One Life's triumph, blossoming.