I Remember Other Easters

I remember other Easters, soft and bright,
When dawn spilled gold through windows in the night.
The air was sweet with lilac, grass, and dew,
And laughter wove through everything we knew.

We hunted eggs beneath the budding trees,
Their colors bold against the springtime breeze.
Pink, blue, and yellow, hidden in the green,
Each find a treasure, every smile serene.

The church bells rang, their echoes warm and clear,
While hymns of hope rose up to calm our fear.
We wore our best—pastels and Sunday shoes,
And shared the warmth no winter could refuse.

I remember tables heavy with delight,
The clink of plates, the candles’ gentle light.
Stories spun through generations, voices near,
Binding us to those no longer here.

But now the Easters blend, a tender ache,
For moments gone no spring can remake.
Yet in the quiet, memory’s grace remains,
A thread of love through joy and gentle pains.

I see those Easters still, in every bloom,
In every sunrise breaking through the gloom.
They live in me, as eternal as the light,
Forever woven through each holy night.

Paolo Driussi.