The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
A man,(over fourscore years) once part of this community, raising a large family, running a flourishing farm, the other day with one half-breath went the way from Is to Was...
While we are part of the IS we ought to heed earnestly this earthy Was, because eternity will be a Forever IS and never, ever Was!
Seamless severing slips through stars
Tugs midnight’s shrug from eastward bars
Fills far-off hills and streets with this;
Fresh affirmation that God IS
Rubric of thousand-thousand years
Abuts each day that disappears
Where evidence lingers a bit
Then falls prey to the nay of it
The common order of the clock
Is achieved through fixed tick and tock
And none as yet have found a way
To alter what begets each day
We make plans; stand up straight tall
Only to fall where shadows fall
With shoulders squared we shouldered youth
Quite unprepared for timeless Truth
…how birth and death closely aligned
Are breath by subtle breath defined
As earth orbits the sun, marks years
Where what is new soon disappears
© Janet Martin
What in the world happened to the first month of this New Year?!!
Only one more week left of January 2017 before it too slips into the archives of Eden