Must death appear as always stealing life,

The fist that breaks our heart’s most sacred shrine,

Or can our own last resting space become

A wedding feast at which we gladly dine?

 

“It all depends”, says Christ, our inner guide,

“On what matures within your heart and mind;

The fruits of love and trust, or hate and fear,

The thoughts that free or those that harshly bind.”

 

So let us trust the future life creates,

Find Heaven gilds the birth of each new day

Releasing all our guilt, our hurt, our fear,

Embracing with great joy the Easter Way.

 

Text and Music © William Livingstone Wallace.

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