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The Thrush Still Sings

by Harold Hull

No matter what disaster brings,
The sun still shines, the thrush still sings;
The mountain stream still tumbles by;
The wolf still wails its mournful cry.
The wind still waves the prairie grass;
The moon still makes its nightly pass.
The flowers bloom; the earth renews
In brilliant reds and pinks and blues.
The sea still swells its foaming tides,
While 'neath the waves the whale still glides.
The deer still walks the forest glade;
The oak and elm still spread their shade.
The snow still falls on mountain slope;
The heart still fills with love and hope.
The ocean still erupts with waves;
The blood of Jesus Christ still saves.
No matter what disaster brings,
Almighty God, supreme, still reigns!

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This poem won 1st place for the April 2020 poetry contest

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