And the blueberries were wept for joy

 

 

And the swallows were sung so clearly

And the thought of rain was a cloud,

Violets were whispered dearly

And the pumpkins were laughed out loud.

 

And the cherries were sweat like blood

In the loving labor of naming the boy,

The word made flesh was the word made good,

And the blueberries were wept for joy.