![\"\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/71\/2019\/03\/seed-1024x522.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"This strange time of life hidden in brown death.
\nThe earth still crusted with ice. Birds still seek
\ntheir meager seeds and fight this Goliath
\nof cold as big as the world. Out they peek
\nfrom under wing as the rising sun makes
\nthe sky pearl and winter\u2019s unblinking stare
\nloses its nerve. Crocuses are awake
\nthough the barren trees still sleep as the bare
\ncross will likewise know no fruit but our pain
\nfor forty days. Slow, slow, slow, is the joy
\nthat splits the husk and cracks our heart\u2019s hope\u2019s grain,
\ntill pressure of water and sun destroys
\nwinter with summer green\u2019s living upthrust
\nand Death remembers that it is but dust.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This strange time of life hidden in brown death. The earth still crusted with ice. Birds still seek their meager seeds and fight this Goliath of cold as big as the world. Out they peek from under wing as the rising sun makes the sky pearl and winter\u2019s unblinking stare loses its nerve. Crocuses are […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":92,"featured_media":107521,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[270,57],"class_list":["post-107518","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-exalted-felicitations-of-the-day","tag-poetry"],"yoast_head":"\n