To Every Trail of Dust

Resolve evolves and blooms perhaps and then dissolves in years

Time chimes and mimes its predecessors; then it disappears

Yet never does; what was is simply what is, ere we find

Like mighty, thund’ring stead it leaves a trail of dust behind

Hunger carves holes in souls and burns like fire in the breast

The Urn of No Return a levee heavy with clock-jest

We kick off boots at night then tie them tight again at dawn

Not knowing what will fill the still-life trail of dust we spawn

We pray the Lord our way to keep then leap hope-deep ahead

On avenues where Old and New alloy in joy and dread

Love-lust, fear-trust, may-must, the war-horses that riders stride

Stirring a trail of dust upon time’s swift-receding tide

‘Alas, alas’, would be the climax of each indrawn breath

The hour-glass a noose through which we pass but once to Death

But for God’s grace to human race, and love that bestows worth

To every trail of dust we weave then leave upon the earth

© Janet Martin