The seeds of resurrection

Each year we watch the trees losing their leaves, 

Turning from green to gold 

 And in their losses gilding 

 The edges of our street. 

The branches, then exposed, 

Etch graceful patterns on the sky, 

Then bud again in spring 

 With that astonishing yellow green 

That deepens, even as we watch, 

Yet still we find it hard to trust 

That life goes on after devastating loss; 

That deep within each being, each situation, 

Lie the seeds of resurrection, 

Waiting to redeem us, and bring to life 

The bright and glowing innocence of the new.