This Easter I spotted some geese

This Easter I spotted some geese with long slooping necks
Heading across the clay pit to a water treatment plant
The two of them made me think of W.B. Yeats' swans
At Coole, then in a short time of course, the Easter Rising
They honked to say hello, and beat across the crucifix
Flying over the sinning poet, who shirked his Dan Brown's
Coded world of angels and demons, and only chocolate
Has significance, unlike his brother, who at Easter works
In prayer and meditation, I will shame upon me, wing
My poem on George Herbert's, cadge a lift on the Christian
Conception, taking all the imagery like the glinted light
Through a stained glass window, there is the Christ
On his cross, his golden-blond hair of the Greek Apollo,
Or the looks of the hippie I knew once on Malvern Common,
Not at all much of a Nazarite, with the nose of the Holocaust,
See those two geese, in Spring they join in natural noise
The message of nature, the site of collective regeneration.