Easter in the Woods


Easter in the Woods

This dawn when the mountain cherry lifts

its frail white bloom among dark pines,

and chipmunks flash small happy paws

along old tumbled boundary lines,

this golden morning when the vixen

nuzzles her five young foxes forth

to roll in ferns in the Easter sun,—

again the woods know soft green birth.


Snuffed by a puffball infant rabbit

are yellow violets by the spring;

among half-opened apple buds

a wood thrush tilts his head to sing.

Risen is He! And they are His,

who scamper under warm blue skies,

who nibble little fists of grass,

and gaze on earth with shy glad eyes.

—Frances Frost

Apple Blossoms

To Spring

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down

Thro’ the clear windows of the morning, turn

Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,

Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!


The hills tell each other, and the listening

Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned

Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,

And let thy holy feet visit our clime.


Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds

Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste

Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls

Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.


O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour

Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put

Thy golden crown upon her languished head,

Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.

—William Blake


No Responses to “Easter in the Woods”

Leave a Reply

  • About Sara

    Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.

    Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.

    © 2003–2018 Please do not use my photographs or text without my permission.

    “Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” —Ursula K. LeGuinn

  • Buy Our Festivals E-Books

  • Archives

  • Tags

  • Categories


  • Meta