The Resurrected
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When I look back at life I can easily compare it to the different seasons of the weather.
With each season change I see the meaning as if it were written in a book.
Winter comes in with a vengeance striking with its blows of snows with sheets of ice that flow lingering on tree limbs until they succumb to defeat with no retreat hearing them snap one by one until they are no more.
Spring comes in making winter bow to its knees showing all the signs of resurrection with bulbs of yellow daffodils breaking through the ground making their friendly appearance dancing in the wind. Welcoming March with a firm stance bowing with pride knowing that they have faced winter’s bitter edge standing on the ridge.
Daffodils standing with their inner courage
Standing between the bridges of winter and spring knowing with one wind the weather can shift leaving one to stand on life’s edge.
Then summer comes billowing in knowing there is no more winter. The sun comes in stronger and hotter wilting the weak and bringing others to their peak. I do so speak.
When you hear of summer love and romances and hear of one’s death. And life makes no sense the sinner reaps and the righteous weep.
It is only in the season of resurrection that the righteous finds contentment knowing that those that have not made it through the season’s change will again rise and come face to face with their maker as the daffodil faces the sun so shall the dead be resurrected to face the SON.
By Patricia Kriegel
© 2009 Patricia Kriegel
(All rights reserved)
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