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Tuesday, April 7, 2015

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

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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!