Easter Wings

The Disciples Peter and John Running to Sepulchre
on the Morning of the Resurrection
by Eugene Burnand

Easter Wings

Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,

Though foolishly he lost the same,

Decaying more and more

Till he became

Most poor:

With thee

O let me rise

As larks, harmoniously,

And sing this day thy victories:

Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My  tender  age  in  sorrow  did  begin:

And still with sicknesses and shame

Thou didst so punish sin,

That I became

Most thin.

With thee

Let me combine,

And feel this day thy victory;

For, if I imp* my wing on thine,

Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

                                                             ~ George Herbert ~

     When I first read this wing-shaped poem, I thought it was just a clever bit of seventeenth century kitsch, and I dismissed it. That is one reason why poems should be read more than once. Later, after reading it over and over, I began to get a better sense of its movement, the beat of wings, the fall and rise of man and the death and resurrection of Christ; until, finally, the rhythm and sense of the whole beat some sense into me, and I felt the brilliance and the praise in it.

     This I have learned: One should not dismiss too quickly what, at first, makes no sense.

*graft; repair a damaged feather in a wing by attaching part of a new feather