joy

joy

Jonathan Chan

after Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

when footsteps tread upon a concrete path
the eye is led to gaze on waxy leaves,
verdurous emerald washed in burning light
the holy ghost suffuses in the air.
the glory of the king in humid day
to dwell amongst the sweat on heaving backs,
the knees that ache upon the clayey soil,
the voices rising with the whir of fans.
for ours is not the song of minted pines,
but groaning in the brilliant orange glaze,
the clatter in the midst of sheltered cool,
the warmth that spreads without and from within.
the holy flesh it wrapped around dry bones
so we may feel the joy of broken bread.

---

Jonathan Chan
Poet & Writer

Jonathan has been published by Quarterly Literary Review Singapore & Poems for Ephesians

Photography by Daniele Colucci