From Hormuz to Yr Wyddfa
A modern spiritual poem inspired by Habakkuk, bringing faith into a world of war, economic hardship and uncertainty before turning towards strength, awe and renewal on Yr Wyddfa.
Though the grapevines
are uprooted in Bethlehem,
and the olive groves fail
because of hatred in Ramallah.
Though wheat from Ukraine
is bottlenecked in Odessa
and fuel and fertilizer
marooned in the Strait of Hormuz —
Though the flock feel desperate
in a cost-of-living crisis with no
shepherd to advise or guide them,
yet I will rejoice in Alaha.
I spin round like a whirling dervish,
for ܐܲܠܵܗܵܐ is my strength, making me
like a mountain gorilla in its prime.
He watches me navigate the rocks
and stones of Yr Wyddfa,
and when I reach the top
and place my hand on the round
trig point of the burial mound,
I pause —
scan the horizon in awe,
then make my way back down
into the valley of the living.
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