I am in grief about the future

I grieve the loss of snail-tapping thrush,
of lapwing flock over brown ploughed landscape,
of skylark rising from fragrant meadow

So rare the snuffling hedgehog in the garden,
the snowy barn owl following the hedgerows

I don’t want to be paralysed by grief;
I want to be galvanised by hope

I want it to be known that I did not sit idly by
And watch time die

I want to give my soul to the service of God
My strength to the resistance
My mind to the vision of how life might be lived
In the absence of the thrush
In the dying of the barn owl
In the skylark silence

Hear
The still small voice

Sandie Stratford