Tuesday, January 06, 2015

After the Siege

Sink slowly sun, we need your last, long light
Now, more than ever. Harrowed is the night
And long beliefs lie shattered like the glass.

Fragile our kingdom is, more than we ken.
Fragile, alike, the peace we trusted then;
And jagged pain has rent our coverings.

Flowers bedeck, we know no other gift
For pity to lay forth in sorrow’s rift:
And fumbling fingers lay them patiently.

And tears flow easily, a hidden stream
With which to wash our trampled, bloodied dream.
Hands clasp, for hope does not so simply die.

And Christmas lights shine out across the land
Mirroring what we barely understand
Dark night, dim faith, but ah! the angels sing!

Peace and goodwill sound like an empty tale.
How could a newborn baby here prevail
Against the madness when the beasts run wild?

Yet “Hallelujah” still the ages the sing
The while we tramp round history’s land-mined ring
And the eternal stars weep down on us.

The sun shall rise till suns shall rise no more.
No sun, no moon, no tears, no death, no war

Shall drag us back. The promise is so sure.

1 comment:

Kevin Knox said...

Amen. Maybe there's something special in laying a flower, in laying something of a promise, of the day the doors will never again close.