What Greater Miracle
The miracle of Spring will never cease
To stimulate heart-felt imaginings!.
From barren-seeming rock and soil the trees
(By warmth of vernal days new-energised
And strong attraction from their budding leaves’
And flowers’ needs), dredging vital ichor
Up roots and fine capilliary tubes —
Up stem and trunk and branch to topmost twig
Of birch, or beech, or giant lofty oak —
As though they were artesian-wells bored through
The desert sector of Australia,
Soon irrigate with life what had seemed dead.
If we, like trees, could yearly die to sin and be, each Spring,
Renewed in innocence, what greater miracle I’d sing!.
