THE LEGEND OF THE EASTER LILY

Written by: Cyndi MacMillan

                                   

The end of the beginning drew very near so Jesus went to pray in the garden, Heavy was His pure heart, bruised by burden, And olive trees soon misted with His tears. He knelt beside a patch of lavender, Roses dropped petals asking for pardon, Sand only softened, refused to harden, While poppies bent their heads closer to hear. Evening deepened as Son talked to Father, Geraniums paled, His pain they could see, Daises bowed low to man’s sinless brother, Gethsemane kneeled to the Rabboni. Seeded by grace, grew a blessed flower, ~A blossom of hope, the Easter lily~
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, "he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.” Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour migh pass from him. “Abba, Father,” he said, “Everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” Mark 34-36 By Cyndi MacMillan for Linda Marie's Easter Inspirations Contest ABOUT THIS POEM I researched the garden of Gethsemane, and all the flowers save for the Easter Lily could very well have grown there on the night before the crucifixion. The Easter Lily is NOT mentioned in scripture (though lilies are mentioned often throughout the bible). This poem is written with the intent to honor our Lamb, and not as an accurate representation of Christ’s anguished hours. This is mixed sonnet. It has an Italian octave and a Sicilian sestet.