The morning is to our feet
Like a fresh un-scribbled sheet
What untold possibility
Is poised above its waking lea
…where we, so spill and error prone
Are like a quill; we write upon
This page; how swift our touch disturbs
That vault of adjectives and verbs
…as moments drip their chartered air
Like ink drops from a pen somewhere
The hour grins, a verse begins
Time’s parchment suffers sundry sins
…from struggling authors; blood-sweat-tears
Composes script of yester-years
For all that we cannot erase
Remains forever etched in place
…and yet, a patient Teacher knows
The anguish of life’s highs and lows
Thus granting us in every dawn
…a brand new page to write thereon
© Janet Martin
In the middle of Time's storms of bad news and fear if we listen we can hear Him testify in each new day,
"Take courage! It
is I. Don't be afraid." Matt. 14:27
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!