on the last lap of lent

Before Easter

Spring;
yet frost still builds
dead palaces.

We hear the crack from
icicles of bone,
snow crowns
have snapped the throats
of daffodils,
the ice-queen walks in
her brittle dress.

No rose-blood in the stem,
no cumulus
perfume in trees,
each day
is a coffin of glass.

The sun is turned
to crystal,
it is our alchemy of winter;
inner cold.

Christ sleeps
behind the quickening stone.

Isobel Thrilling



For prayer and reflection

The poet likens early spring to the time before the resurrection of Christ. As we wait for wintry weather to transition into the warmth of spring, and the buds on trees and flowers to finally break open in bloom, so we see out the final weeks of Lent before the resurrection joy of Easter.

It can still feel quite wintry at this time of year. Isobel Thrilling’s poem doesn’t ignore the signs of the season — cold and unpromising as they may seem. She takes time to observe and describe them.

What have you been noticing during Lent? What has been your experience of living the disciplines of prayer, fasting and acts of service? Can you find a way of being present to the moment and observing what it brings, rather than always looking forward to a better time?