Fresh-deepening green
of bough unfurled and
ground to heaven reaching,
seeds sprung new,
all splashed through with
palette’s richest hues
let fly from the
Artist’s hand—
God enrobes creation
finer than Solomon’s best.
I pause here
enveloped in beauty’s rest
a wayfarer weary, spent.
Joy springs—dare I let it grow?
Nature’s tiny conqueror
overthrows the world,
and I would be restored?
Fresh life bursts forth
from rock and deeper still,
upward-flowing, over-spilling
robed in light, Father-bound
with souls in His embrace.
The Victor offers
weary, wandering hearts a place
in Him to rest.
Here, then, I stay—
a breath of fragrant spring may
recall Life’s triumph,
but tarry not—be from earth
to heaven lifted, there
where joy flows full.
“Yes,” says He,
“Beloved, be restored
In Me, the unconquered,
unconquerable, Risen Lord.”
Sr. Cecilia Francis, CFR