Today we hold the funeral service for our poet, 92 year old Sheila Billingsley, who died last month. May she rest in peace with her husband Reg, and rise in glory! Here is her Easter poem from four years ago. She was fascinated by the physicality of Easter, the renewal of all life through Christ’s resurrection. Pray for her and those she has left behind.
Did it Rain that Morning ?
How did the sun rise that morning? Did it roar into the sky? Did it dance, throwing its flames across the void? Did it rain? Surely it rained? A penetrating April deluge, Short, sweet, cleansing. Penetrating like grief, Like relief. Did the wind blow? With no-one to feel it lift the dirt, the dust, Sweep clean, Prepare the way. The sun at darkness’ end. The lightning, thunder. Fit entrance to a forgiven world. Fit entrance for a Prince, a Lord. Did the birds and the creatures rejoice together? The flowers tremble, Their perfume astonish? Till all ablaze, You stepped forth Accompanied by Angels, And went your way, about your world. Until the women came, Looking, Peering, Anxious, Worried. All was calm again by then, Nothing untoward, Except that you had gone to Galilee And left a message with an Angel.