Michal and I swooned
at the tulips,
daffodils,
magnolias,
Lenten Roses,
and forsythia
all around.
The blooms--
bold purple,
bright pink,
hot blue,
butter yellow,
were more luminous than usual
in the soft light
as if someone had just plugged in
the stems and tree trunks
to turn the flowers on.
Children were skipping,
running, tripping,
getting up and running on.
One boy about five held his Dad's hand,
looked up at us in our masks, binoculars, and hats,
and said, "Hi People!"
It felt a little like having Jesus step
out of the tomb and say, "All Hail!"
just as on that original Easter morning.
In the kitchen now,
about to make grilled cheese sandwiches,
Michal sings a song of praise to the frying pan,
riding the tune of a venerable hymn.