Joy
And when I lift my blinking gaze to You, Your Resurrection I begin to share— In seconds all that’s desolate turns fair, The louring skies flash instantly to blue, I sprint, leap, fly, all tireless, through the globe, On zephyrs with my brother birds I ride, And dance on soaring crests of foaming tides, Restored by just one touch, Lord, of Your robe. I am not meant, perhaps, to comprehend Why rue-smoke palls the sunlight half the time; But goodness is so good, such strength it lends, That I can still believe some plan divine Will someday somehow make us whole again— For now it is enough Your sun still shines.
—J.B. Toner
J.B. Toner is a graduate of the school of hard knocks.
