The Lord is Risen! He is risen indeed Alleluia!
Heres is an extra ‘fifteenth’ sonnet for Easter Morning, which I dedicate to my friend Mary who asked me to write it, and to the memory of her husband Gavin. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.
Later today I will publish another Easter poem, but this completes the sonnet series I have been posting throughout Holy Week.
This sonnet, and the others I have been posting for Holy Week are all drawn from my collection Sounding the Seasons, published by Canterbury Press here in England. The book is now back in stock on both Amazon UK and USA and physical copies are shortly to be available in Canada via Steve Bell‘s Signpost Music. The book is now also out on Kindle. Please feel free to make use of these sonnets in church services and to copy and share them. If you can mention the book from which they are taken that would be great.
I am grateful to Oliver Neale for permission to use the image above. as always you can hear the sonnet by clicking on the ‘play’ button or on the title.
XV Easter Dawn
He blesses every love which weeps and grieves
And now he blesses hers who stood and wept
And would not be consoled, or leave her love’s
Last touching place, but watched as low light crept
Up from the east. A sound behind her stirs
A scatter of bright birdsong through the air.
She turns, but cannot focus through her tears,
Or recognise the Gardener standing there.
She hardly hears his gentle question ‘Why,
Why are you weeping?’, or sees the play of light
That brightens as she chokes out her reply
‘They took my love away, my day is night’
And then she hears her name, she hears Love say
The Word that turns her night, and ours, to Day.
Malcolm Guite 
Thank you Malcolm for Easter Dawn and for all. Easter peace of mind and heart to you and Easter Joy of soul. Judith
Thank you, I translated it for my family in Chile, just seeing how my brother-in-law is quietly leaving us:
El bendice a todo amor que llora y está afligido
Y ahora bendice a los suyos que se pusieron de pie y lloraron
Y no se consolarían, o dejarían su amor
Último contacto, viendo como la poca luz se desliza
desde el este. Un sonido detrás de ella la remueve
una cacofonía brillante de pájaros cantando atraviesa el aire.
Ella se vuelve, pero no puede ver a través de sus lágrimas,
o reconocer al Jardinero parado allí.
Ella apenas oye su pregunta suave ‘¿Por qué,
¿Por qué lloras?’, o ve el juego de la luz
esa luminosidad mientras ella ahoga su respuesta
“Me quitaron mi amor, mi día es de noche”
Y luego oye su nombre, oye al Amor decir
la Palabra que convierte su noche, y la nuestra, en Día.
Oh thank you. I’m honoured that you made that translation!
Thank you again, Malcolm. Have a blessed Easter!
Beautiful!
Pingback: A Sonnet for Easter Day | Getting There... 2 steps forward, 1 back
Beautiful Easter poem
Pingback: Icons, Fighting Conches, and Abundant Giving in the Kingdom of God – Shasta's Fog