“everything is changing,”
the rustling voice whispers to the wind,
“the light is leaving; joy will be no more.
we must not let it go!”
(when no one answers,
the voice whispers more urgently –)
“what happens if the seeds should stop believing,
once the soil grows cold and hard?
or the trees abandon hope like fallen leaves,
their empty arms raised in sunless sky?
“will no one be left to remember
how God once danced through verdant fields,
dropping petals of purple and leaves of green,
waking His butterflies with joyful abandon?”
(the voice grows silent, as earth slips deeper
into autumn’s shadowy dark.)
and you, my friend – will you hold the joy?
guard its flickering flame in your heart
through merciless storms of sorrow,
enduring fears of endless night?
will you hold the joy?
(Comments and contributions for this Week of Joy are most welcome. Please e-mail them to me at email@example.com.)