Golden gorse, you gladly sing
To greet the birth of Christ our King.
Drifts of bluebells softly say:
Remember Mary every day.
Snow-white hawthorn tells us of
Transfiguration by God’s love.
Blackthorn gives a warning cry:
Jesus lives, yet he must die.
Swaying palms, you shout with loud
Hosannas, like the joyful crowd.
A tree is felled, to make the cross
On which Christ’s life-blood will be lost.
Fragile primrose whispers: pain
And death; but he will rise again.
Easter lily, awed and hushed:
He lives in me. It is enough.
The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen (Luke 2:20; NLT).
Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word (Luke 1:38; KJV).
There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light (Matthew 17:2; NIV).
This is my dearly loved Son. Listen to him! (Mark 9:7; NLT).
The Son of Man must die, as the scriptures declared long ago (Matthew 26:24; NLT).
The next day a great crowd who had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying, “Hosanna!” (John 12:12-13; RSV).
Then the soldiers nailed him to the cross (Mark 15:24; NLT).
Remember what he told you back in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and that he would rise again on the third day (Luke 24:7; NLT).
Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us (Colossians 3:11; NLT).