When spring has come and all the woods rejoice, 

all kin awake and join in a large crowd,  

They can’t help hear a strong and joyful voice, 

that cuts above the rest and speaks aloud. 

A voice that signals like a thunderstorm, 

a sudden warning of the coming rain. 

Yet keeping all who hear it safe and warm; 

Enthralls them in a story, kept from pain.  

A sickness guides the voice to a cold tomb, 

now free, the thunder rises heaven bound. 

Despite the crowd’s cries, hope like flowers, blooms 

in Christ who, like the sun’s light, they are found. 

And though the thunder’s absence may cause strain, 

the crowd knows they will see their kin again. 

This story was originally published in Volume 24, Issue 7 on March 6 2025