We push thought-syllables around…
Arrange, then re-arrange
To shape a new image or sound
Some familiar, some strange
We weigh the powers that must be
Of choice and circumstance
And how response is all that we
Contribute to Time’s glance
…of high and low and hold-let-go
Of flounder, fall and fly
By faith or fear we persevere
And cannot cease to try
God’s way confounds the thoughts of man
We seem bent to Time's strife
Yet, reason wraps into a span
What soon becomes a life
We know that daylight breaks the dawn
And disappears at night
But none can see the Great Beyond
Beyond its dark and light
...and living's greatest mystery
Is what death will unveil
As Reason becomes history
And Time an empty grail
So, we push mute syllables around
Squeeze thought into a pen
Unqualified to utter sound
But this to God…Amen
© Janet Martin
Let the wicked forsake his way And the unrighteous man his thoughts; And
let him return to the LORD, And He will have compassion on him, And to
our God, For He will abundantly pardon. "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," declares the LORD. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts.…Isa. 55:7-9
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!