Druids were members of a pre-Christian religious order among the ancient Celts. Their insights into astronomy and stone constructs were marvelous, even by today's standards. As the present poet is about 2/3 Celtic, it seems fair to tap them for the following poem. Published Coffee Press Journal, 2006, copyright, J. Donald Coonrod.

Easter comes up green
from rich earth, born into
a rain-drenched soggy life
in sinful air where Celtic ghosts
float on moonlight in burnished
winds of suffering,
long before Christ drank that
fateful cup of love and death
in the Holy Land.

A druid’s feast is flesh and feel,
ocher painted lips whispering
of a fatal embrace,
moonlit brightened tombs,
pillars ephemeral as diaphanous
gowns pulled up in mystic dreams;
art and science dancing
around the round clock of death.