Resurrection

I have in my hands a leaf
Mine to hold, firm as belief

I saw it hanging on a tree
Crimson for the world to see

Beholding it, I looked at death
Blood-drenched in its final breath

The leaf will die, and join the mold,
Lay for a time, growing cold

Its glory is not finished just
There is a mystery in its dust

After stone-cold winter's grief
Will come a resurrected leaf

Not to the leaf alone I hold,
Nor tale of seasons, yearly told
But another resurrection story-
Christ crucified and raised to glory.


(Fall 2005)