Easter Sunday

On this most special of weekends, I have been reading one of my favourite poets – George Herbert. And with doom, anxiety and worry permeating much of my news feed this week, I settled on this beautiful reminder of Who is actually in charge.

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
And to remind me even more, I took my camera out on our beach walk this morning.
Waihi Easter 6-1
Waihi Easter 3-1
Waihi Easter 2-1
Waihi Easter 1-1
Waihi Easter 5-1

4 thoughts on “Easter Sunday

      1. I love your Easter post. It is very rare these days to find people who praise the works and mystery of our Creator. You are excellent writer. Make good use of your talents, Leanne.

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