Joy (Poem)

By Amirah David

When this tissue paper body finds gravity too adamant

especially with the extra sag of tragedy -

You are the ground, or the wings.

I feel you like the apple tree 

senses her buds under concrete snow - 

the way a bulb knows when to grow.

When I’ve failed again to reflect you

fastened indoors when there is new sun calling -

You are drawing out the robins and tulips to ring their bells - 

to be just themselves - unblurred by uncertain identity - 

telling of Your joy as their wild and warded dwelling.

Your strength is a sling for broken hope.

A tow rope for the ship with blown sails.

A broad shoulder safe enough for wailing.

It is praise for effort when all I can see is colored with failing.

It is an honest-to-God letter waiting in the mail - 

on fingerprinted paper, the way it was - like a written choir.

Your joy is the butterfly painting yellow that black aftermath of fire.

It is the christmas lights of December planting starry hope -

and the resolute daffodil shoots fighting February snow.

The solo footprints in the sand,

when I can no longer find the nerve to stand.

When the dark forest swallows the path,

and all is lost as the temperature drops -

like a child’s first star sighting, 

You are a cabin aglow.

Happy is the girl unwrapping a box with that porcelain doll from the window. 

But your joy is when she shattered on the tile -

and while drinking tears, she helped mama gather her pieces 

and glue, and care, and kiss, and bandage - 

together forging the memory that would carry

her though every serrated challenge

into wise old age.

Joy is the etched words: “It will be ok” on her soul’s face,

because there is also written: “never alone” and “loved as His own” as the gifts of grace.

The water at the give-up stage of the death valley race.

The breathing-space and shade at a packed rally or the hot parade.

The amazing escape from the bottle neck of rage - into the lake.

The poppy out of pavement.

The “thank you” whispered to You in amazement

for ocean-sturdy hope - 

despite the walls falling,

and the earth fading.

Your joy is birth then breath.

It is death then heaven.

Wide-eyed at your mighty intercession

and the depths of rest in the holy home you present us.