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QuillOak

Lyric Poem · Hope

Seed Beneath the Ground

by The QuillOak Editors

The earth makes no announcement

when winter's grip lets go —

just crocuses, like trumpets,

come shouldering through snow.

And that's the Easter sermon,

delivered without sound:

whatever looks like ending

is seed beneath the ground.

Original poem © QuillOak — free for personal use.

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