Because Every Day is a New Gift From God

We are not worthy yet o’er star-strewn sky

Grace gently brushes night-shadows awry

Where is this vault from whence Time flows, how deep?

Where is the spigot from whence hours weep?

We do not know when will toll parting’s song

But this we do; time is short, death is long

How will we touch then and how will we fill

This gift of grace from a Giver’s good will?

See how its river of light sweeps the sky?

See how it rushes in silent good-bye?

See, where the land was cupped in midnight’s hold

How it is brimming in beckoning gold?

We dare not squander this heaven-lent Thing

None are entitled to Time’s offering

But from a place none can mete or control

God pours His mercy into night’s dark bowl   

May we be zealous and gratitude shod

Because every day is a new gift from God

© Janet Martin