Printable Version of Topic
Click here to view this topic in its original format |
Celtic Radio Community > Celtic Hearts > Easter Reflections |
Posted by: Leelee 10-Apr-2009, 08:13 AM |
With OUR EYES we see The beauty of Easter As the earth awakens once more... With OUR EARS we hear The birds sing sweetly To tell us Spring again is here.. With OUR HANDS we pick The golden daffodils And the fragrant hyacinths... But only with OUR HEARTS Can we feel the MIRACLE of GOD'S LOVE Which redeems all men... And only with OUR SOUL Can we make our 'pilgrimage to God' And inherit His Easter Gift of ETERNAL LIFE. Helen Steiner Rice |
Posted by: Leelee 10-Apr-2009, 08:15 AM |
Jesus Christ, The Son of God, bled and died for us in a sacrifice. This Spring day's celebrated, generally in the month of April. All of the bright and pretty colors, of the Easter outfits with frills. Women and children will wear their Easter bonnets. In the Spring, you'll hear the various musical sonnets. April will bring many rain showers. That'll bring us various beautiful flowers. One special flower for this day is the Easter Lily. It's color is white, and yet snowy & milky. The birds will sing their songs of praise. As we begin to feel the warmth of the sun's rays. As we say "Goodbye" to the winter's gloom, The flowers and trees have already begun to bloom. All of life's beauty, The Lord created, for us all to share. Spring breezes begin to flow, sending fragrances through the air. The winter's thawing will let the rivers, lakes, and streams rise and flow. The beauty of the Earth will make us all feel aglow! Farmers and gardeners will start to hoe. And then they'll begin to sow. On Sundays, we'll hear the various church bells ring. Let's be grateful for the LORD, let's rejoice and sing. If it wasn't for the Lord, we wouldn't have anything! Author Unknown |
Posted by: Leelee 10-Apr-2009, 08:17 AM |
But when it does, we all know its here Children filling themselves with chocolate Dad's down the pub for a pint of beer! We go to the church for the wine and bread Dad's half asleep, and jerking his head Baby sister is here too, munching away On the free Easter egg that the Priest gave us today But remember we must, that the Lord died for us And ascended into heaven to give us fresh lives For each and every one of us. Author Unknown |
Posted by: MacDonnchaidh 13-Apr-2009, 04:08 PM |
A bit late, but it is still Easter Monday so there. From the Oxford Book of Irish Verse W.B. Yeats, Easter 1916 I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have passed with a nod of the head Or polite meaningless words, Or have lingered awhile and said Polite meaningless words, And thought before I had done Of a mocking tale or a gibe To please a companion Around the fire at the club, Being certain that they and I But lived where motley is worn: All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born. That woman's days were spent In ignorant good-will, Her nights in argument Until her voice grew shrill. What voice more sweet than hers When, young and beautiful, She rode to harriers? This man had kept a school And rode our winged horse; This other his helper and friend Was coming into his force; He might have won fame in the end, So sensitive his nature seemed, So daring and sweet his thought. This other man I had dreamed A drunken, vainglorious lout. He had done most bitter wrong To some who are near my heart, Yet I number him in the song; He, too, has resigned his part In the casual comedy; He, too, has been changed in his turn, Transformed utterly: A terrible beauty is born. Hearts with one purpose alone Through summer and winter seem Enchanted to a stone To trouble the living stream. The horse that comes from the road, The rider, the birds that range From cloud to tumbling cloud, Minute by minute they change; A shadow of cloud on the stream Changes minute by minute; A horse-hoof slides on the brim, And a horse plashes within it; The long-legged moor-hens dive, And hens to moor-cocks call; Minute by minute they live: The stone's in the midst of all. Too long a sacrifice Can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice? That is Heaven's part, our part To murmur name upon name, As a mother names her child When sleep at last has come On limbs that had run wild. What is it but nightfall. No, no, not night but death; Was it needless death after all? For England may keep faith For all that is done and said. We know their dream; enough To know they dreamed and are dead; And what if excess of love Bewildered them till they died? I write it out in verse-- MacDonagh and MacBride And Connolly and Pearse Now and in time to be, Wherever green is worn, Are changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born. |
Posted by: stoirmeil 13-Apr-2009, 05:00 PM |
Well done, Ben. Easter Monday it still is. Give us a few words about Easter Monday and the Rising, as it began and went on the rest of that week. |