We mourn the destruction
of Jerusalem,
wince as slim hopes
are bruised
beneath the heel
of the enemy.
Our hearts seem
too heavy to sing
but the song
is not forgotten.
We must cling
to the lyrics
if only in silence,
live in the rhythm
of the songwriter,
praise him and find reason
to dance again
even on the streets
of Babylon.
It is right to weep
at the sight of
evil unfurling
but only for a day.
Our cities are
awash in anguish,
desperation darkens
every door
every window
and now more than ever
we bearers of
his incandescence
must shine.
We will not dance
for the evil master
nor entertain
the tormentors
but we must sing out
about the Lord
who has already written
the last lines of our lament.
He is our Advent.
Psalm 137:1–6