Thursday, May 31, 2012

Winter's tunnel

Birds perch upon the highest bough
not scared to slip and fall
in this life stripped bare and devoid
of the meaningful.

How firm their faith in love
that through grace allows true flight
to acquire and imbibe
lasting sustenance.

And through winter’s tunnel they’ll arrive
into the glorious
and their song though never silenced
will more strident pierce denial.

But, but, but, and, oh, another but
there are lands where birds don’t go
and mankind that will not grasp
how faith always provides.

It’s not to say that idle hands
must rest content in uselessness
because always in the physical
we’re called to honour life.

Yet and yet, and, oh, another yet
how to honour the stripped bare
and effortlessly glide through
winter’s deadly tunnel?

Through faith, of course, simple faith
so easy but made difficult
to acquire and imbibe
until summer comes again!

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