The Returned

(Dedicated to Healers of the Mind)

How new to her the sun-up ray--

I heard her softly speak His name.

Along the hyacinthine way

Of morning-wonderment she came.

Her eyes, when they were turned on me,

Were April violets, first-seen;

Her voice a pristine psalmody

That curved through blossom-fronded green.

"A miracle!" she cried--her eye

Swift-following a bluebird's flight

Until it blended with the sky--

"This rising day, renascent-bright!"

Her arms up-spread, she sang, "I know

The triumph over death and stone!

I breathe the breath these gardens blow,

Their living song, my own!"

Again she spoke His name ... I knew

To her returned from mind-dark tomb,

The sky was resurrection-blue

Above the white of lily-bloom.