showers of April
spring from You
wear my sadness
perched on His Grace
prayer, blood dripping
from His Son’s pores
in the Garden of Gethsemane
angels tend His wounds
ladybugs play checkers
dance of sparrows
and the mighty lark
when soon the earth
will grow quiet and dark
To read the rest of this poem, please go to Spillwords Press NYC, thank you and happy Easter everyone. Blessings, love and grace!
