Wisdom is bright and does not grow dim.
By those who love her she is readily seen.
In my dreams I see truth at the world’s rim.
But sight in my dreams is all the more keen.

We are told that we believe that Jesus died and rose again.
And that it will be the same for all who have died in Jesus.
I see this truth as a tiny circle of light at the end of an overgrown lane.
We can only pray that one day this truth will seize us.

Wisdom may indeed be bright.
But will the oil in our prayer lamps last.
The oil needs refilling to maintain its light.
Hope must be in the future, doubt in the past.

Belief for me is a flickering light.
But trying to believe keeps joy bright.