I sat by the stream and waited
What would float by me?
Eventually I got frustrated,
Because there was nothing to see.
The dull day light was dim
And my wits matched that grey
As if all life’s colors
Had fled, had gone away.
The ducks in conversation
Themselves seemed subdued,
Their brown and dark green feathers
Matched the winter hue.
Of fields with nothing growing
And gardens dormant too
Of skies with ominous clouds
Not even a hint of blue.
“Now is the winter of our discontent’
Or so the Bard would say
The weather affects our every mood,
Until it goes away.
I wonder what it will be like
When there is no more night,
No more dark and dreary days
No need for candlelight?
What will we think when decay decays
Is gone forever more
And death and disease get word
That they too are shown the door?
Some say the world will end in fire
Some say it ends in flood
I say it ends in resurrection
The end of shedding blood.
The end of all things wicked
The end of all the hate
With swords beaten into plowshares
And harvests early and late.
Some call this wishful thinking,
Some say pure fantasy
Won’t they be surprised
When these dreams are reality?
So faith, hope and love,
These three will remain,
But Love will have the last word
The coda of the last refrain.
I say God’s yes to life
Is louder than death’s no
The Son will break through those clouds
And melt the winter’s snow.
Dec. 21 2015
BW3