The home of a neighbor of a close friend of ours recently burned to the ground. This is a tragedy of the worst kind for anyone. Moreover, it was a place that housed troubled adults. Although no lives were lost, a home and a hope, at least for a time, were.
Sing, little ones. Sing, for the music still plays on…
Strike up the chord from rubbled keys,
fill up your ears on scrawny knees,
push through your threadbare notes with ease,
let the music play on.
For good or ill the band still played,
Titanic-deck’d no songs fore-stayed,
reduced to ash and dust parade,
yet the music played on.
When all has shuttered up within,
let lonely hearts bestirred begin,
to harp, to trump, to violin,
for the music plays on.
And you, with your most treasured fears,
ensconced in burnt and golden tears,
a lilting note from God full cheers,
and the music played on.
“…and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God.” Isaiah 43:2-3