Well, on the bright side, I said to myself, after some recent turn-of-events,
At this point I will never be tempted as in the parable of the rich fool, to say
"Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years;
take thine ease, eat, drink and be merry"
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns,
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are you not much more valuable than they?
Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
Time is a troubadour etching its verses
Into the fabric of wish-weathered strife
His hearty hunger never reimburses
That which becomes the sum of love and life
We choose the attitudes whereby we carry
Worship or worry into dawn’s domain
While with each whisper and heave-ho we bury
That which will never pass this way again
Change is a constant but so is God’s mercy
Trust is a prayer-warrior oft put to test
Hearts are both battle-grounds and humble havens
Cherishing comforts, accepting the rest
© Janet Martin