Poem: Song of Praise

Sometimes, the praise is deep. And sometimes, you can only respond with a poem.



Song of Praise


What is it like

When the dawn finally breaks?

Is it a roar

Of trumpets, a throng

Of angels, a blaze of fire,

A victory drum?

Or is it a hum?


It is like today, a rainy afternoon.

“Look, a rainbow,” my son says,

And his sister and I

Look up at the sky.

“No, not there,” he says,

And points. It is a scattering

Of rainbows there on the ground,

Pools of color, inky

Majesty, miracles of light

And water, there

In the driveway.

How easy it was for him,

How faithful was he to his call:

To run, to jump, and then

To stop,

To stoop,

To look, so as

To see.


If I could inhabit

His child’s eyes

Would I see what was so precious

And plain? Would I give myself equally

To play and to pause,

Could I be still long enough,

Could I surrender?

And after a breath, could I speak –-

A rainbow! –- and bid others

To gather round —

Come and see­ –-


In the cracks

Of pavement what the storm

Has formed, this ordinary

Grace. Could I point

To the place where what

Was broken is now covered

And filled, could I dare

To accept that yes, this gift

Is for me: this promise

That we were never

Alone, that Water is

Gentle, that hope

Is the province of Light

And children.








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