A poem based on Habakkuk*

Though the fig tree does not bud
and the 401K does not bloom
And there are no grapes on the vine
and I store food in a basement room,

Though the olive crop fails
and the internet goes blank
And the fields produce no food
and there’s no money in the bank,

Though there are no sheep in the pen
except the ones I count to sleep
And no cattle in the stalls
and war news makes me weep,

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord
I will be joyful in God my Savior.

* Habakkuk 3:17-18
From my blog archives