Joy’s a bubble that catches you, as if by some surprise. It rises up in splendour and sings a song that says – “I’m living, I’m dancing, I’m floating up on air!” It grabs your every neighbour and swings them up with flare! It tantalizes, and then invades! It flings restraint and cries- “Come laugh with me and celebrate, as if you have no care!”
Joy’s a soil, that’s rich and full of hope. Yet seems benign and normal, as you tread upon the ground. Yet as you walk, you spread some seeds that seem to take on life. They suddenly are bountiful and soaring in a splendour all of green. And not so long beyond this time, along come purple colours, they show a face that look to be the grapes that make Shiraz! Before you know it, you’re drinking wine and rest beneath some shade, that Joy produced cause it was part, of the soil beneath your feet.
Joy’s a trickle, that starts within crag. It drips and drops as from skies above, when troubles storm and crash. As time goes on this trickle joins with partners far and wide. It travels ever lower, to fill the hollows down below, where life’s not rarified. And as it goes, it opens wide to bring its grace to all. A mighty river, invincible, as on it flows, down to the sea to join the many other remnants there, of storms that went before.
Joy’s a gift, not earned with sweat nor taken by mighty force. It simply is a grace, for those who hunger for something more, within their lives so bound. It comes in gently as a friend , unannounced when most we need. Suddenly, in lives held close we feel a sudden shift. As grace meets rest and fellowship, I sense the blossoms opening and so I am found within these arms, the one who never fails to bring surprise and drench the ground with dew when time stands still.
Author – Bill Tidsbury