Across the day’s missteps and little defeats—
might-have-beens and forced retreats—who
has not questioned the meaning of it all? Or
through pain, hunger, life’s constant beatings,
what glory is to be gleaned, what reason, what
rhyme? Can it be enough to tread onwards in
faith, thankful to be here—even when wonder
stretches thin? Balance is a dynamic holding
on, demanding focus and purity of will. Held
in the the will of the creative One, I affirm the
present and what has been done. Made liquid in
love’s crucible, pour forth your heart in praise’s
mold. Reformed in the deathless image of the
sung Word, make iron sing and gleam as gold.
_____
Nihal Singh