How swiftly, deftly change prevails
And folds away the old for New
The penmanship of air exhales
What ink struggles to shape into
A legacy of sorts before
The Hand of Change ushers to naught
That which seemed so familiar
Tangled somewhere twixt thought and jot
How easily change fills the shoes
Which yesterday were far too large
Before they turned into adieus
Delivered on time’s moment-barge
While on the shore as we implore
For the return of some fair Past
We taste the salt and sense the roar
Where winds of Change govern time's mast
How fragile is This agile quip
How frail the grail in which soul’s dwell
How quick from change to change we slip
Like garments of hello-farewell
And we wonder if anything
Is spared the reach of change uncouth
Ah yes, comes Mercy whispering
One thing will never change; The Truth
© Janet Martin
“No way!” was Matt’s response when I told him the sermon we just listened to at our supper-devotions was first preached in the 1800’s and
yet, still as applicable in every respect today as it was then, because Truth
does not change.
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