“Aprils,” New Era, Aug. 1990, 24


    He came, green

    from April fields, smiling

    at the complaints of new ewes.

    He loved lambing. To lose

    even one—

    He breathed in

    sharp fusion of spirit and element

    making blood and bone the instrument

    of Intelligence. Immanuel,

    born while stars shouted through the veil

    Hosannas over April fields.

    He lived mild,

    seeing seeds and sparrows fall,

    learning lambs and fish and all

    the allegory of a vineyard.

    He saw the swelling grapes,

    raw bottles, and the winepress

    brimming crimson. He read the prophecies—

    and every Passover feast

    ate bitter herbs

    and flawless lamb.

    He cried out,

    the closed veil wrenching the shout

    no scourging could tear from him. He

    bled alone between writhing olive trees,

    distilling drop by drop the poison

    from each contaminated man,

    aching the consummate

    submission of atonement.

    He rose, lifting

    white hands to heal, restoring

    perfect unity to bodies and souls,

    sons and fathers. Angels

    herald the refreshing times:

    a flood of light.

    He comes in clouds, white

    to victory and wedding

    coronation: the King

    of peace.

    Art by Amy Greaves

    Photo by Angie Teames

    Photo by Jess Morgan