How Very Strange
Of hope …..
How strange it is, how very strange,
that in the still of night
I feel the beating of my heart,
then catch the morning light
that dances on the shadowed walls
to captivate my sight.
How could I so behold the dawn
and feel such joy inside
when all the world has slipped away
and everything has died –
there’s now a flicker of the flame
that I can no more hide.
It is so strange, so very strange,
when filled with such dismay,
that I should ever be so moved
to see the children play,
and watch the falling of the sun
as at the close of day.
So strange it is, so very strange
that life yet moves along –
this world will keep revolving whilst
the chorus sings its song,
and all that is will ever stay
full resolute and strong.