A garden of asters of varying hues,
   Crimson pinks and violet blues,
Blossoming in the hazy fall
   Wrapped in autumn's lazy pall.

But early frost stole in one night
   And like a chilling, killing blight
It touched each pretty aster's head
   And now the garden's still and dead.

And all the lovely flowers that blomed
   Will soon be buried and entombed
In winter's icy shroud of snow
   But, oh, how wonderful to know

That after winter comes the Spring
   To breathe new life in everything.
And all the flowers that fell in death
   Will be awakened by Spring's breath -

For in God's plan both men and flowrs
   Can only reach "bright, shining hours"
By dying first to rise in glory
   And prove again the Easter story.
      - Helen Steiner Rice  "Celebrations of the Heart