By Don Iannone
April 11, 2004
Dearest trumpet-shaped flower.
Virtuous mother of rebirth.
You remind us, ever so well,
of early springs, when
we were much younger.
Should we never forget you are the
white-robed apostle of hope.
Gracing all about you.
Your sweet scent lingers
far after you’re gone,
In you, we resurrect
our faith in something larger.
Something eternal.
Something magical.
Something infinite
that lives on inside all of us.
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Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
Contact Information
Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
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