Monday, December 28, 2015

Toward The Thing That Matters Most...



 

For the last six hours Time's jars are spilling howling gales of ice and snow... 

 
This is what the past few hours have sounded like...ice pelting windows


Time tips the jars that splay the way
Toward a a sure, surreal Someday
That dwarfs this place where people are
And heaven’s myriad of stars

What really counts is often hid
‘Neath what folk say they said and did
 Forgetting in Time’s rise and fall
The Thing that matters most of all

So what of minor This or That
Like where the price of Stuff is at
Soon Time will set its charges free
In exchange for eternity

This boulevard of howling gale
Of sun that sets and ships that sail
Tips us toward a common goal
Where earth enfolds all but the soul

© Janet Martin

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