To take responsibility
For health of our whole
Begins, not with the bodily
But with our soul
***
What is the language of love, my God?
What gives my words credence?
Soft comes His answer to my thought
‘But this; obedience’
***
Ah, vale of wasted sorrow
What treasure tossed away
If I don’t act tomorrow
On what I learn today
***
Face to the future
Back to the past
Hand to the moment
Soon its mold is cast
***
Dusk draws its shadow
Over the day
Over the meadow
In whispers blue-gray
You draw your murmuring
Where thought is bold
Blue-gray, my darling
With flickers of gold
***
Do not begrudge life’s trouble
This is the curse of sod
And Time is but the bubble
That carries us to God
***
Your flesh is pleasant to my touch
And oh, parting is pain
But thought will hold you close, my love
Until we meet again
***
Lord, show me how to walk today
Slow down these steps that hasten
And teach me, Lord what not to say
When I should simply listen
© Janet Martin
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