Today, all creation rejoices. Heaven declares it, the earth is renewed, and even the depths of Hades tremble for:

“Christ is Risen!”

04/12/2020

When someone needs guidance, Jesus rises to the occasion.

A murmurous excitement stirred  All souls.  They wondered if they dreamed—  Save one old man who seemed  Not even to have heard. 

And Moses standing,  Hushed them all to ask  If any had a welcome song prepared.  If not, would David take the task?  And if they cared  Could not the three young children sing  The Benedicite, the canticle of praise  They made when God kept them from perishing  In the fiery blaze? 

A breath of spring surprised them,  Stilling Moses’ words.  No one could speak, remembering  The first fresh flowers,  The little singing birds.  Still others thought of fields new ploughed  Or apple trees  All blossom-boughed.  Or some, the way a dried bed fills  With water  Laughing down green hills.  The fisherfolk dreamed of the foam  On bright blue seas.  The one old man who had not stirred  Remembered home. 

And there He was  Splendid as the morning sun and fair  As only God is fair.  And they, confused with joy,  Knelt to adore  Seeing that he wore  Five crimson stars  He never had before.  No canticle at all was sung.  None toned a psalm, or raised a greeting song.  A silent man alone  Of all that throng  Found tongue—  Not any other.  Close to His heart  When the embrace was done,  Old Joseph said,  “How is Your Mother,  How is Your Mother, Son?” 

Art by, Alaxander Andreyevich Ivanov [1806-1858] Russian.