How can you speak with such steady poise,
Demanding we waken, be glad, and rejoice?
To count every blessing and worry no more—
Is a life of such wonder even possible or sure?
...
Thunderous thunder,
The lightening of July,
Aaah! My biggest fear.
...
A Plea To The Prisoner
by Danat Tesfaye
How can you speak with such steady poise,
Demanding we waken, be glad, and rejoice?
To count every blessing and worry no more—
Is a life of such wonder even possible or sure?
Can we truly be glad in the shadow of graves,
When we lose the beloved to time's hungry waves?
When the sting of betrayal strikes deep in the chest,
And life whips us raw; can our souls find a rest?
O Apostle Saint Paul, the great light of the church,
Our souls are held taut by the words of your search.
You shouted 'Rejoice! ' to the Philippian throng,
While shackles and iron were singing their song.
You were bound in a cell, you were heavy with chains,
Yet you rose with a spirit above all your pains.
So speak to me now: in whom do we trust?
Answer me, Saint, from the gold and the dust.
'Not through the wealth of this world's fleeting breath,
Which withers in shadows and dances with death.
By the Lord of all love, let your spirits be stored;
Rejoice in the Savior; rejoice in the Lord.
I say it again, though the night may be broad:
Rejoice in the light; find your joy in the Lord.'