Easter is not a time for groping through dusty,
musty tomes or tombs to disprove
spontaneous generation or even to prove life eternal.
It is a day to fan the ashes of dead hope,
a day to banish doubts and
seek the slopes where the sun is rising,
to revel in the faith which transports us
out of ourselves and the dead past
into the vast and inviting unknown.
And he departed from our sight
that we might return to our heart,
and there find Him.
For He departed,
He is here.