Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits:
....Who redeemeth thy life from destruction;
who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;
These glorious September-day benefits include a lot of pot-with-something-to-stir...
...a lot of bloom-savoring
...days of so much to do, so little rhyme;-)
Affixed to this perusal of abysmal toll and chime
We sense an immense Something hinged to the fringe we call Time
The parenthesis of what passes through us without thought
Keeps us poised twixt all that once was and all that yet is not
…where misers, spenders, dreamers, doers, dally, hurry, wait
Each on a common way toward Tomorrow’s abstract gate
And some of us will fret and fuss, meanwhile with grace regaled
And some of us will reach the place where its chase is unveiled
Ah, who knows who will move through the fringe hinged to who knows what?
And who of us is immune to the hierarchy of God?
For all the boast and blather that we gather, give, explore
It all comes down to this; What Is, is hinged to Something more
Sometimes in the small middle of this little leap of love
Lavished with utter beauty and devastation thereof
We sense an Immense Something hinged to this faith-fear-trust-doubt
Where time is but a fringe hinged to what life is all about
© Janet Martin