Christ is Risen! whispers the wind through the branches of memory

Christ is Risen! whispers the wind through the branches of memory, The prayer of the blade of grass rises like a song of rebirth, And in every drop of dew, the sky lays down its ancient tale. In the depths of the forest where deer write their dreams with graceful flight, In the peach blossoms that rise like stars in the earth's sky, In the hum of bees, weaving time in the gold of honeycombs, Christ carries His light through the shadows of silent mornings. But in the ocean of your soul, where the waves of thoughts break, Do you feel how the stone of hatred turns into the gentle sand of forgiveness? Have you let the light enter through the forgotten windows of your heart, To burn old desires like dried leaves in the fire of spring? For where love flows like an endless river of light, Evil melts like snow under the kiss of the young sun, And in every breeze that cradles the blossoming cherry branches, You can hear the secret whispers of peace building its nest. Clothe your soul with the golden garment of endless love, Let the song of the seraphim be your light and guide, And then, truly, you will be able to sing with joy, In your heart, like an eternal echo: Christ is Risen!