Reminders of all the colors

As my daughter prepares the dye baths for the Easter eggs, I remember past years holding dyed hands up for Easter communion.  I also remember a piece written by Martin Bell in The Way of the Wolf entitled Wood and Nails and Easter Eggs.  It*s worth a look-see by googling.  It is still just as powerful as when I first read it years ago.

The birds sing all afternoon

In the garden,

Still the forsythia winds and blooms.

Now the four bunches of daffodils

Bought with paper skins

Closed tight

Have opened.

They trumpet, blare, yellow

In the living room.

On the sideboard

The sprays of forsythia,

In their turn

accompany the pussy willows,

Fur catkins now with small green leaves.

They curve yellow quiet

In contrast.

We get ready to color eggs

Before church.

Our fingers will be dyed many colors

By the time we are done.

At church

We will celebrate what God has done

With bells and dyed hands.

The dye will take a couple days to wear off.

I will be more than glad

To have reminders

Of all the colors

on my fingertips,

Even as I am surrounded

By loud daffodils

Quiet sprays of forsythia,

Pure gold.