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To live like we’re dying
Is to touch with awe
The wonderful wonder
Of moments from God
Blue, deeper blue
Winter-dusk spills its sigh
Covering earth
Like a sea from the sky
Then, what was new
But a short while before
Will slip into Past’s
Vast never-more
None can one’s number
Of moments foretell
Time’s pendulum swings
Twixt heaven and hell
And we, the partakers
Of mute moment-grace
Showered with kisses
From God, touch his face
…if we with humble
Endeavor but ask
To live every day
As though it were our last
© Janet Martin
We cannot count moments,
but we can make moments count!
We cannot count moments,
but we can make moments count!
You know what? Suddenly,
Leftover leftovers...
laundry piles...
Messy sinks...
leaky doors...
...never looked so good!
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Ps. 90:12
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!