Sonnet #12 - The Moon at Easter


The moon rose over the rim of the eastern ridge
Large and gold sending rays of light far around.
First, just a glimmer shone though fluffy clouds
Then quickly, impatiently she rose and showed her face.
On Easter eve I saw it first as if nature was in tune
With the promise that God would call Christ from the tomb.
Christ suffered grief and pain beyond our mortal realm,
He was buried in the grave, to the mourner all was lost.
Then Easter morn came with the news He is risen.
The rising moon with its pure light confirmed to me
My testimony that He lives and will come again
He he will come and rule in love and everlasting light.
The beauty of the risinf sun and the more gentle moon
Will both be dimmed at His coming, which may be soon.

Ann Margetson ©
Easter 1995, Wenatchee
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