The Want of Her

The gate that softly swung across the dominion of day

Unlatches; commoners and kings run eyes across the sky

Where possibility and all those things for which we pray

Ignite oceans above us and the candle in our eye

Though racist tongues still clamor and thought-hunger spills its ache

And old years fold and disappear in night-day give and take

Horizons stir; the want of Her in all her untouched form

Delivers us from yesterday and takes eons by storm

She does not pick and choose and no one can refuse Her hand

Already dream and duty brim with opportunity

As we slip into shoes that daylight sets upon time’s sand

And watch the nothingness of dark dissolve on heaven’s lea

The loveliness of Her is always more than we deserve

She drapes Her gown from the Unknown to every care-worn curve

Horizons yawn; the want of Her and all her untried ways

Beckon as we slip from a shroud of thread-bare yesterdays

Ah, we have never met or held Her quite like this before

The beauty of Her bearing stuns with kind simplicity

For she does not withhold from anyone Her open door

But welcomes us to laugh, love, weep in Her fullest decree

Because, what options have we but to bow beneath Her rod?

She is the off-spring not of science but of Holy God

Horizons smile; the want of Her no barrier can stay

…she fills up-lifted cups with grace as she becomes Today

© Janet Martin