Resurrection

Resurrection By Linda S. Fletcher J spoke to my heart: "Why leap and sing? Do you sense the Spring, When, a lacy symphony 'Gainst the sky, each leafless tree Weaves a wintry tracery All, of gloom a part?" Answered my heart: "Gray is the sky, But the breezes passing by Breathe of sweet expectancy Tell of joys so soon to be; Pulsing life awaking, free, — Movement soon to start." Chiding my heart: "Ere night is gone You throb to the dawn! While in voiceless harmony, Million stars make melody, Night winds sigh so sleepily, Night-things thither dart." Replying to me: "Know that the light E'er effaces night! Winter, night-time, death, unroll- Yet no terror feels the soul, Knowing truly this its goal: Life eternally!" Mood By Bertha Roberts JT was morning and spring In my garden I watched the sun flash from the skies And make sparkling gems of the dewdrops A-glitter in violet eyes! Today I remembered my garden Out there from this pain I could flee But the dewdrops were all Tears of sorrow — Life, what have you done to me? y i -f On Hearing, "La Paloma" By Fae Decker Dix rHE strains of a symphony — Haunting, tender, alluring — What do you leave me to wonder? Concealing mystery and love? Eyes that bring memories — Poignant thoughts that pain, Longing, seeking, hoping — Ah, what depths of emotions you touch! I see — white gossamer clinging to a maiden, A dove and blossoms — sunlight — - Then — -the mystic fragrance of a flower, And, after that — there is naught But pathos in your melody! Alone I am again — and wondering — D< '0£S any other month spell such enchantment as does April? Brisk breezes, bearing vigorous promise of renewal; warm sunshine melting the cold heart of winter, and touching earth with an awakening finger; points of green stabbing through the sod; and bird calls. April could not but be joyous, for earth's beauties are insignificant in comparison with the eternal promise of the Easter-tide. Let earth put on her loveliest attire, let hearts vibrate, and poets and singers lift voices in glad music to pro- claim the glory of the risen Lord! Christ is Risen By Claire Stewart Boyer CHRIST is risen! And with Him rise All the glories of the eyes: Shoots from bulb and seed and tree, Breathing nature's mystery. Christ is risen; And mankind hears All the music of the spheres: Bird and babe and choirs sing, Hearts rejoice and church bells ring. Christ is risen! And from men's souls Virtues rise toward heavenly goals: Courage, faith and charity, Seeking out divinity; Justice, wisdom, hope and love Soar on wings toward Him above; Resurrected — earth and men! Christ is risen once again! Spring, By Claire Stewart Boyer 7 HAVE loved Spring so ardently From years since first I knew its fra- grant breath. It has been balm of Gilead For all my pain from broken toys to death; And when spring smiled in other lands And my small world was held in winter's snare, I closed my eyes and ran up icy hills, And dreamed that spring was blowing through my hair. When I have passed life's one bright spring, And winter grips my earth in silver frost, No matter what steep icy hills I climb, nor how my soul is terror-tost, If I can cling with childish faith To that sweet practice, that refreshing art, They shall not say of me that I am old For spring shall blow eternal through my heart. Sonnet By Clive Lovett Cleaves /HEAR a strain of music faint and far Into my soul it softly comes a-winging As tho some angel band on distant star Smote chords, and set the universe to singing. Soon beauty's glow invades my daily mind, And mistily I see supernal glory Descend, and clothe in light the stumbling blind, Who cannot see the Author for his story. Then soul to soul in brother-love is mated, And sin is done. Illusion's tower falls, As from the birth of time was surely fated. Anon, triumphant life through heaven's halls Hunts mournful death — to his drear death belated. The music fades — once more the harness galls. i i 1 It Is Raining By Mary M. Porter It is raining — GLADLY the withered earth Takes eager refuge, And basks serene, content, Beneath the deluge. Trees bow their dripping leaves, In trust confiding. Their most secretive cares To heaven's chiding. It is raining — And I would that in my life Would come sensation To stir my shrivelled soul To aspiration. Oh, that refreshing tears Would ease my sorrow, And give to me the hope Of glad tomorrow. Morning, Song, By Shirley Rei Gudmundsen TN spite of all the night has wrought J. I rise; "Good morning, World!" I cry, and lift five fingers wide To dawn clouds, softly curled, And push my night thoughts back, to see The fresh grass blades, dew-pearled. And their gay sister daffodils Gold-yellow in the sun; I fill my loom with matin threads That springtime has begun, And spin the bright day back again — ■ That darkness had undone.