David J. Herring

'Twas just a tiny seed, smallest of all,
That lay unnoticed on life's busy track;
Trod underfoot into the dark, the soil,
And not expecting ever to come back.

But Love had placed a need within that germ -
Though seeming dead - to grow and rise again!
A tree to form, a purpose to affirm,
Made strong through cloud and sunshine, wind and rain;

Just like a little deed of kindness shown,
That blessed the heart of one through grief's long days,
And branches of hope, love and peace were grown,
A life filled with the music of God's praise!

Thus grows God's Kingdom, by each kindly deed,
Sharing His Love, fulfilling every need,
Like the great tree from tiny mustard seed!

Imprisoned fast I lay: long years of pain;
Yet hope and joy live still: they will not die.
Was I, or was I not, the one to blame?
There is no answer, even from on High.
But One once stood alone, in Pilate's hall;
Blameless, He faced the stubborn crowd, condemned.
Yet as, for me, He drank the bitter gall,
His love covered my sins, and called me friend.
And day by day, that love's the golden key
Which unlocks cells of pain, dungeons of fear,
And shines with joy, as prisoners are set free,
Their chains shattered, as His words they hear.
For Easter brings new life: 'twill NEVER die,
And Love Himself is all the reason why!

The dewy garden greets the gentle dawn,
The birds sing joyful praises for this Morn,
The Earth awakes, and somehow, life is new,
The grass seems greener, and the sky more blue.
Anticipation shimmers on the air:
There is a Lovely Presence walking there;
For One Who gave His Life, now lives again!
Victorious Love, freeing Earth from its pain,
Bringing hope to the hopeless, righting wrong,
That His Creation sing love's glorious song!
For all who trust in Him shall never die,
But reign with Him eternally on High.
And now, the Easter garden holds its breath...
"Mary!"... "Master!"... Love conquers sin and death!
Alleluia!

As waves crash into foam upon Earth's shores,
And all their driving force dissolves in peace,
So do my self-driv'n prides meet your resource,
Which bids their angry heaving surges cease;
And broken to a humbler, kinder form,
Which seeks to wash more gently, tired feet,
So does my life regain its long-lost norm,
With cooling balm your patient shores to greet.
Then your true love receives me, drinks me in;
All of my life is peaceful, loving flow,
And to the deepest ocean I am kin,
Whence I once came, whither I soon shall go;
But had I ne'er found peace upon your shore,
Had roamed my angry billows evermore.

If you could see beyond your weeping tears,
To where the sunshine sparkles once again,
Then would those drops of pain be free from fears,
And you'd recall that gardens need the rain.
If you could see beyond despair and sorrow,
To where the veil is lifted, mercy flows,
Then would today be blessed by faith's tomorrow,
And thorns be valued for tomorrow's rose.
For tears can give love's rainbow many hues,
But life's sun burns if taken to excess;
Love's kind wisdom often forbids us choose,
Lest we seek sun before the rain can bless;
And were no tears, no rainbow could unfold,
No journey's end treasure, no crock of gold.