Did you ever laugh with joy, Friend,
at the beauty of God’s world,
the sheer extravaganza of it?
Did you ever glory
in a windblown ravishment of flowers
and the buzz of insects high upon the moor?
Friend Fox, did you ever catch your breath
when a robin sang boldly
on a branch just above your head?
Did you see his chest puff with each trill,
an orange feathered brilliance
that shone in morning light?
A seeker, and passionate for Truth,
you traveled far beyond safe conformist shores,
preaching what you knew
of the One who speaks to our condition.
You fiercely hurled forth Truth,
even when they threw you into prison.
And I wonder, Friend, did you find hope
behind those walls when you recalled
heather on the hills, the frolicking of lambs,
and peaceful walks on moonlit country lanes?
Did it sustain your spirit to remember
a robin sitting on a branch above your head
and singing in the morning sun?
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