Who dares speak of joy
In this world so full of woe?
When downcast eyes and heavy hearts
Question why it is so.
Why spell out this defiant word
In the face of life so dreary?
Don’t you see the tear-stained face
and the shoulders stooped so weary?
The prophet calls for peace and faith,
The apostle for robust trust,
The baptiser lays out a brand new path,
And we catch a glint amongst the dust.
For in the darkness, there’s a spark,
A flicker of a brighter dawn,
While hope, though fragile, never fades,
And joy’s rebirth is gently drawn.
(c) Dennis Ryle December 2024
Wondering Pilgrim 