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‘You have turned my mourning into dancing.’   Psalm 30:11

Night surrounds mountains of apocalypse.
Ghostly wisps of smouldering ruin rise
like incense while ascending plainsong cries
of creatures echo in the eucalypts.
A cooling mist descends on withered earth
to heal the blistered landscape and restore
a spirit that had vanished long before;
the kiss of resurrection and rebirth.
Now people of the village softly raise
lone voices from familiar mourning chants
to join those creatures in a hymn of praise;
the rising incense in a solemn dance.
Vindictive fire from hell will not destroy
our memory, community, or joy.


First published in 2009 by S.K. Harrington in tribute to those rebuilding homes and lives after devasting fires in Australia, Greece, Russia, California....

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