A Sleep of Prisoners
Nice little poem by English playwright, Christopher Fry. Sent to me by local friend and colleague, Carla Kelley of the Human Rights Education Center. After we shared an afternoon exploring each others work. I love the notion, “Thank God our time is now….”
A SLEEP OF PRISONERS
Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now. The frozen misery
Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move;
The thunder is the thunder of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart Spring.
Thank God our time is now when wrong
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never to leave us till we take
The longest stride of soul we ever took.
Affairs are now soul size.
Is exploration into God.
Where are you making for? It takes
So many thousand years to wake,
But will you wake for pity’s sake!