Monday, February 27, 2012

The Onset of Things to Come

The dawn has spread, four hours deep
Across the thinning sky
Illusive ghosts of midnight creep
Beyond its waning eye
And on the cusp of things to come
With mystic fingertips
God’s grace unfolds a sacred bloom
As morning parts its lips

Inhale the nectar of His hope
Love bleeds miraculously
As Time exhales a transient scope
Of opportunity
And on the cusp of things to come
Another day begins
Mercy imparts from lofty Throne
Forgiveness for our sins

Beneath our feet a stepping-stone
Of moments yields its path
Leading into life’s vast unknown
From history’s aftermath
Ephemeral vapor on Time’s tongue
This brief reality
What was
What is
And is to come

© Janet Martin

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