Death, be not proud, though some have called you
Mighty and dreadful, for you are not so;
For those, whom you think you do overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet can you kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but your pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from you much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with you do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
You're slave to Fate, chance, kings and desperate men,
And do with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than your stroke; why swell you then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, you shall die.
~John Donne: Holy Sonnet X
That is the Good Friday Morning reading in Following Christ: A Lenten Reader to Stretch Your Soul by Carmen Acevedo Butcher. (I know her!) And I thought it was so appropriate because the flowers on our veranda have been sick and weary of the dark grey skies and weather. Like me. But today, they seemed to perk up and behold the sunshine. A few more good, good things on this Good Friday:
You didn't really think I'd post two times in a row without squeezing in some photos of the kitters, did you?
Have a lovely, rejuvenating, death-conquering, redemptive Good Friday, y'all!