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.
