Thus Far

Thus far as moments roll, cajole the sod in season-strain

We sow and tend and reap and rest then do it all again

The pantomime of summertime and autumn-winter-spring

Amalgamates; we contemplate this inhale-exhale Thing

How swift an hour becomes a day; days shape a month, a year

And somewhere not too far away death wields its solemn spear

So we, as moments roll, cajoling sands where seasons spar

Ought to consider now and then, what we have done thus far

From yonder brink, pink turns to gold, then gold to blue or gray

God places in our fumbling hold His gift; another day

But soon it too will don the hue of vapor serenade

A breath-by-breath framed legacy of choices we have made

Ah, we cannot afford to tilt Time’s cup and never taste

This ether draught, so drink it up; one drop we dare not waste

Then stand and stare dispassionate, to midnight’s whimp’ring star

Now is the time to contemplate what we have done thus far

God does not weigh our offerings by what the eye can see

He searches every spirit for love’s best; humility

And rich or poor alike He gives time’s moments to employ

Silver and gold can never buy His hope that brings us joy

Nor can the cash of miser’s stash claim what cannot be bought

We touch a tide we cannot see as action proves our thought

And somewhere One beholds our give and take; Time’s door ajar

Offering grace to human race for what we’ve done thus far

© Janet Martin

I read the words 'thus far' in an article this morning and it jolted a train of thought...