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Portrait of the Artist as a Lone Tree


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Will God, who brought us far, forget our fears?
Or leave us lonely, lost, as aftermath?
Long is the road and hard from fall of tears
that lie behind us splashing on our path.
And yet we’ll say those falls are far behind,
when sunlight warm and wild makes rainbow mirth,
beholding life is comely, warm, and kind,
when sorrow’s children get a second birth.
New lands and homes are calling us from pain -
‘past’ is a land we visit nevermore -
and chasing us, are joys we can’t contain
that seek us and come knocking at the door.
Goodness and mercy fight to line our way,
as greener pastures greet the dawning day.

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