Here’s to those who have risen again [poem]

Looking West towards Cave Hill, Belfast [credit author]

Here’s to those who have risen again,

After solemn clouds squashed their sun,

After the unrequited unlighted them,

After the pain refrained again again again.

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Here’s to the stories entwined in our bones,

The bird that is engulfed and flies again,

The table turning rabbi, taken to the skies again,

The gods of farming folk, begging life from stones.

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Here’s to hope that stirs in every creed,

That the strains of kindness shall prevail,

That the sun’s chariot will outpace the dark,

That every morning, every dawning, we get to rise.

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Here’s to those that don’t give up, give in,

Whatever the evidence that shuts us in,

Whatever the voices that keep us down,

You stir, you stumble, you open the door again.

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Awake you sleepers, take heart my friends,

In whatever stories help you fight these ends,

Here’s to the gods of sex and drums and rock and roll,

Damn right we’ll rise again,

Damn right we’ll rise again.