You fashion us for joy,
    yet it eludes us.
You mean us for joy,
    yet pain blinds us to it–
        the world's pain,
        our community's pain,
        our family's pain,
        our pain.

And still,
    you fashion us for joy:
to hear the spring robin's
    celebration of companionship,
to observe the curves
    of an unfolding August rose,
        to inhale that velvet scent,
        to recognize beauty among thorns,
to gasp at blooming fireworks,
    to dance with a laughing child,
to canoe across a silent lake,
    to be stilled by gentle snowfall.

Joy.

We do know joy,
    do we not,
but fear to allow it
    because it feels like a betrayal–
what right have we to joy
    in a world of so much pain?

Yet still,
    you fashion us for joy.

I know pain;
    I know it in this moment,
yet I shall reach for joy,
    know joy,
        embrace joy
this day,
    this hour,
        now:
the cat purring against my hip,
    the furnace stirring to life,
        the skin of this orange as I peel it,

this breath…

because you fashion us for joy.

Text and image © 2023 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
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