Do you remember the times spent in hunger,
the soul-spots that nothing could fill?
I made breakfast with my youngest brother;
he laughed when the eggs took a spill.
Do you remember the era of long nights
that churned out despair like a mill?
We used the old tales for starlight;
the bright moon was spun on a quill.
But surely you think of the grey times,
the dark, fruitless days with no sun?
I recall filling teacups with sunshine,
my dishpans as battlefields won.
Habakkuk 3:17-19
