“Where’s this year’s Easter poem?” my sister said,
So I started to look inside my head;
My brain struggled to find something new,
Then I realized there was work to do.
Come forth, bright ideas, from where you are hiding,
Surely creativity is somewhere abiding;
Alas, my pursuit turned up no new rhyme,
And by now I was running out of time!
Oh, nouns and adjectives and verbs with power,
Rescue me from this impending, stressful hour!
In desperation I turned to prayer,
And found my Heavenly Father there.
Turning from fiction’s play to truth of reality,
Open our eyes, Lord, it’s You we must see;
Jesus, God’s Son, Savior, faithful Friend,
Receiving You before life comes to an end.
Here owning up to my lack of fresh inspiration
I’ll write again of love and celebration:
Remember crucifixion and resurrection day;
This is the most valuable thing I can say.
By Elaine Hardt ©2008