Prelude to Paradise

Across earth’s patient high and low

A beaming tide of morning breaks

Midnight deserts its marbled lakes

As on the air the ebb and flow

Of dark to light bids dreamers rise

To toil on spoils of paradise

Is there a day fairer than this?

All other days have fled away

To boulevards of Yesterday

And who can enter that abyss?

Behold, the gold that gilds the skies

And bids us dream of paradise

The earth is full of graves, but we

Who seek salvation’s sacred goal

Made not for flesh but for the soul

Know graves are but the Thing we see

As we struggle toward The Prize

In Time’s prelude to Paradise

Across earth’s albatross of loss

And Mercy’s sundry attributes

The noise of man’s carnal disputes

Would be the very death of us

Save for the One who parts skies

And points the way to Paradise

© Janet Martin

I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work. John 9:4

Then Jesus told them, "You are going to have the light just a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you. Whoever walks in the dark does not know where they are going. John 12:35