Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Time's Touchdown

A quiet rush of ruby fills the air
Time’s touchdown spills in warbler-trills
We dare not linger where

We laid aside our busyness of care
To sleep and pray, for yesterday
Has no doorway from here to there

 The quick ability of tick-and-tock
Declares its might in dark to light
And petals on the walk

We change our plans; trust God for that and this
And none can force His hand, of course
We try; ah, foolishness

We have no choice; the frigate of an hour
Soon bears away both gold and gray
In muted moment-power

A quiet rush of ruby dissipates
The sun, like Heaven’s shepherdess climbs high
To pastures without gates

And we, its charge to keep cannot afford
To brood in chains for gilded strains
That yesterday has stored

© Janet Martin

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