The flesh is but the temple harboring the ageless soul
The pride of life a ripple where time’s quickened hours roll
And soon we set aside its boast to sleep beneath the sod
The flesh adheres, from dust to dust; the soul returns to God
The adjournment of mortal woe meets our mortal gaze
But the immortal none can know in full until that place
When we stand before God alone to receive our reward
And tardy pleas cannot atone for truth that we ignored
Grace opens wide its gate and mercy appeals patiently
The day of grace with our last breath and Time will
dissipate
The flesh returns to dust; the soul meets God at Heaven’s
gate
The gods of self and this old world are never satisfied
The God of Heaven spilled His blood; our ransom crucified
‘It is finished’ Love
supreme cries out for you and me
© Janet Martin
So lovely...I am speechless.
ReplyDeleteJudy, thank-you so much.
ReplyDelete