Where I walk life comes forth
Snows of winter lie heavy on the ground,
in this desert of ice, a lifeless land.
The steps you tread make nearly no sound
as you approach, a lonely pilgrim, and
bear the shield of Faith and sword of Spirit.
Keep walking like the fantasy Lion
The snows will melt with holy fire lit,
though you’re weary and tired keep trying.
For spring arrives again as hope comes forth,
A smile, a question, a listening ear,
pilgrims travel from East, West, South and North,
To come to this wasteland, where you are, here,
For you make this wasteland a whole new place,
With your life dependent on God’s great grace.
I wrote this after some reflection time at work. We were thinking about Psalm 84. Two verses, in particular, struck me:
5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
6 As they pass through the Valley of Baka,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
The idea that as we walk as pilgrims life is brought to places of emptiness and desolation is incredible. It reminded me of Aslan in the Narnia stories, who ends perpetual winter simply by his presence.
I also spent some time reading Esther Spurrill-Jones’s version of the Psalm, Pools of Blessing:
All of this thinking and reflecting allowed an idea for a poem to form in my head, and I thought I’d give a sonnet (of sorts) a go. I’d love to hear your thoughts about the idea of bringing life to desolate places.