Morning news delivers its daily ration
Of the lowest of human lows,
And the miasma of modern melancholy
Nestles down in a familiar chilly flow.

Flicking stations, out bursts the children’s’ choir
Bright voices rising, harmony aglow,
Like an impossible crop of crocus
That pierce the blanket of snow.

A choral field of life undaunted
Emerges from the warmth below,
For hope springs eternal
In these youthful hearts on show.

Nurtured by a joyful vision beyond
The darkly dismal world we know,
It reaches for the highest of human highs
That the seeds of love can grow.

Within this energetic human field
Invisible forces bestow
A shimmering space of hope and light,
A brilliant warming flow.