Like a Kiss

From scaffolding of age-to-age

God hangs the dawn, a virgin page

In spite of Yester’s sullied stage

His mercy knows no holds

But lavishes our discontent

With hope in all His glory lent

Where Time’s appointed sacrament

Fills broken bowls with gold

Morning’s celestial paradise

Draws Wonder’s unstoppered ‘oh mys’

A pure and perfect common prize

That none deserves, and yet

God, because of immortal love

Would all of earth and heaven move

With nail-pierced Hands so He could prove

What we dare not forget

Then, like a kiss on Time’s lament

He ravishes its firmament

With mercy’s tireless testament

Morning, a glory train

From grace’s fathomless abyss

God forms a cup of willingness

And pours a glimpse of who He is

That sky cannot contain

© Janet Martin