Wonder

Poem by Jenny Gateau

What shall I send them today, I wonder,
those faithful inheritors of George Fox
standing silent and still on the top
of Pendle Hill or
up against the wall in Launceston Prison.

In a fearful season,
when hearts are fragile,
we all need
to grasp the frontiers of
wonder’s possibility.

I’ll send them a beautiful
handmade basket full
of bright globes of it
like finest peel-easy tangerines,

to give a moment, when with a deep breath,
passion joy hope and love
spread a smile across their faith,
bringing shelter and a kindness in knowing
that the world still turns
and this time will pass. And
dredging up reserves of hope
they didn’t know they had.

I’ll encourage them to
stretch out three fingers and find
their pulse. Pause
to calculate the years that
faithful beat has pulsed,
longer than they think.*

To be here at all
is such a Wonder.

*The human heart can start to beat as early as
sixteen days after conception.

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