Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Flower-arranging and Father Unchanging



 Yesterday's storms battered flower-gardens...but soon new flowers will bloom, new dreams will waken.

Everything changes with nothing but hours
Spring’s barren range soon grows heavy with flowers
And where seduction of dream lured our thought
Soon we surrender them to what is not

Back in that place where we didn’t lament
Morning and evening’s swift folding of tent
We urged clocks onward and we didn’t care
… all roads were leading to greener Somewhere

Now we are old enough to recognize
How brief this family beneath Time’s skies
We soon will slumber where forefathers sleep
While here we number the years in our keep

Everything changes but God never will
He breaks the bud still asleep on the hill
Giver and Gatherer, Thy will be done
Kind loving Father to everyone

Though we may mourn, ‘tis with reverence now
Beneath the thorn of life’s roses we bow
Everything changes with nothing but hours
God rearranges our groaning with flowers

© Janet Martin

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