This winter ending day
which dawns in quiet chill
recalls another morning born
in thunderclap and rending
as the gates of hell exploded
from within and the Harrower led forth
a wakening multitude of startled souls
who never dreamt eternal life
lay in their fearful,
grasping, grudging hands,
if only they would open them
and yield to that astonishment
yet lays in wait to shock this latter day
with its still bright, alarming grace.
