for the Lord’s promise of hope. But you, blasphemous raven, wait! To your envy the ice will melt, the water will flow again in the streams, and colors and scent will return. The trumpet of resurrection will restore life to the world filling the rose garden with laughter and the nightingale’s song. Autumn will die and we will dance upon its grave. Rejoice, for the dawn of Splendor is breaking!
