Where Reaching Shadows Fall...

The garb of night and yesterday

Like love-worn dancers slips away

No sound of feet upon the air

As they ascend Time’s astral stair

Pedestrians upon a street

Where past-present-future compete

Gilt overlay spills unabashed

And where yester-intentions clashed

Once more Time’s morning cup o’er-flows

Where we uplift our wants and woes

To He who cares and intercedes

And satisfies our truest needs

Then, should the grace of God persist

Soon Time consumes this thing of mist

Collecting once again its due

Where now this day is strange and new

Too soon its swaddled beck and call

Lies where dusk’s reaching shadows fall

Then where its reaching shadows fall

...an eighth note in Time's madrigal 

We cannot turn back to recast

What we have written on the past

But now, the old is done away

And in its place a brand new day

© Janet Martin

How is it, I ponder, that something as age-old as Eden can feel so new...morning! What will this day hold as reaching shadows fall? words too hastily spoken (ouch) or thoughtful encouragement? Will it bear disappointment or delight? Such a little potent cup...this thing 'from morn til night'!

By God's grace we go! He blessed us with sunny weather to put out gardens and the farmer's are going strong!