click on images to enlarge
It fills our lungs and spills
From existence’s core
Free of charge, yet with a price tag
Too weighty to ignore
It rushes through our veins
And out across the sea
It sweeps the hills and dell with blooms
And strips the laden tree
It cannot be reined in
Nor hastened as it pours
Invisible, yet full of proof
Through God-allotted doors
Silk-soft, how harsh it is
And yet how gracious too
It does not force replays for its
Discourse is ever new
It sleeps in history books
It vexes poet’s verse
It dances in the streets, its feet
A hand we bless and curse
As it evades our grip
And tolls a phantom chime
This intangible, hard-knock fist
This gift of grace called Time
© Janet Martin
(For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in
the day of salvation have I succored thee: behold, now is the accepted time;
behold, now is the day of salvation.) 2 Cor.6:2
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!