A Sleep of Prisoners
A Poem by Christopher Fry
The human heart can go the lengths of God…
Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now. The frozen misery
Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move;
The thunder is the thunder of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart Spring.
Thank God our time is now when wrong
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never to leave us till we take
The longest stride of soul men ever took.
Christopher Fry (1907 – 2005) was an English playwright (visit Wikipedia to find out more), and further described in his obituary (in The Guardian), appropriately as a Christian humanist playright – which this poem testifies to.
The portrait of Christopher Fry is by the artist June Mendoza. Check out Portrait Painting in Oil With June Mendoza OBE RP ROI