What is this weight; out by the gate the goldenrod turns
yellow
A young man stands where Time’s swift hands have stolen ‘mom's wee
fellow’
Those days we dreamed about have come and gone; its veiled
tomorrows
Like buds, have borne the rose and thorn of livings joys and
sorrows
What is this weight; is it the frigate of an hour pressing?
Morning unmoors from phantom shores a fleet of untried
blessing
And soon our feet will taste its street where want and
wisdom clashes
How fair the dust of wanderlust; how stringent Duty’s sashes
What is this weight; God fills our plate from mercy's boundless table
He knows our woes and weaknesses and how much we are able
To bear; the air is heavy where we've yearned and prayed and pondered
Yet cannot persuade nature's law to refund mercies squandered
What is this weight; each circled date that once consumed
our passion
Has slipped into The Yonder Blue in time’s tried and true
fashion
Its aftermath a muted path of loss-and-laughter molding
What is this weight; methinks it is the Love of God unfolding
© Janet Martin
... What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?
Romans 8:31
... What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?
Romans 8:31
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!