It seems the mind is filled with thoughts
Of meager livings toil and spoil
Of mysteries God’s hand allots
Upon this sorrow-stricken soil
The mind; it bears our fantasies
The onslaught of love’s fears and tears
It shapes upon its hidden seas
The hunger of life’s little years
How is it that the mind can bear
The weight of wars that test us so
While hope runs whispers like a prayer
Across its capricious plateau?
The tender turmoil of farewell
Re-echoes through its corridors
And in its alabaster shell
The breakers dash against its shores
The mind endures both joy and grief
The fickle foibles of the flesh
It reels in wordless disbelief
As surrender and strength enmesh
It is the cup where faith and fear
Mingle in contrasting alloy
Spilling into the atmosphere
As hand and heart and mouth employ
© Janet Martin
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is
just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if
there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think
about these things. Phil. 4:8
It is the cup where faith and fear
ReplyDeleteMingle in contrasting alloy
Favorite line.
Thanks for making my mind think this rainy morning!
:) Thank-you. This morning it seemed my mind was crowded with thoughts the moment I awoke and I wondered how it already can be full when I am barely awake...that's how the first line evolved:)
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