On the banks of the Arno

And the hills of Tuscany

Were all green once again,

When She stepped on the shores

Of the hearts that were yearning

For grace in the world

And peace among men.

She played in the gardens of Medici

Where things that She touched became gold,

And a trail of rose blossoms

Followed Her foot steps,

As She walked through the streets

Naked and bold.

It was a Springtime that lasted

For sixty long years,

And the wondering world called it "Rebirth".

But then, came a screeching

And a howling in their ears

And the roses,

Faded from the garden green Earth.

Jehovah swept down from his

Smoke-shrouded mountain,

Shouting and pounding the tablets

He threw down at Her feet.

And so, as in Athens, Akkad and in Egypt,

Not a harsh word or untimely delay,

She lifted Her head

And went

Silently

Weeping

Away . . .

Now the lilies are blooming

On the banks of the Columbia,

And the hills of the Cascades

Are all green once again.

. . . . . . Roderick 1987