The Lazarus Tree (Poetry)

We weren’t certain the tree was past saving
though bare branches showed no life at all
we had hoped it was just convalescing
where it leaned on the moss-crusted wall

Since the long weeks of drought it had suffered
when a cruel sun parched everything dry
and its leaves fell to earth prematurely
in the scorching last week of July

It was ancient — an oak gnarled and crooked
no surprise that it gave up the fight
and withered without much resistance
till it looked quite a pitiful sight

When late showers revived the whole garden
grass restored and the browned bushes too
the poor tree made no bid to recover
but its ghost saw the next winter through

A dusting of snow greeted Easter
like a winding sheet gave it some grace
and the bulbs peeping through punctuated
while Nature worked hard to replace

With a southerly breeze stroked the treetop
and coaxed a small miracle free
a bud swelling brave showed its promise
hinted life had survived secretly

Then the sap rose again and renewed it
as though magic dwelt deep in the earth
and the birds in those branches were singing
celebrating the joys of rebirth