Toward The Thing That Matters Most...

 

For the last six hours Time's jars are spilling howling gales of ice and snow... 

 

This is what the past few hours have sounded like...ice pelting windows

Time tips the jars that splay the way

Toward a a sure, surreal Someday

That dwarfs this place where people are

And heaven’s myriad of stars

What really counts is often hid

‘Neath what folk say they said and did

 Forgetting in Time’s rise and fall

The Thing that matters most of all

So what of minor This or That

Like where the price of Stuff is at

Soon Time will set its charges free

In exchange for eternity

This boulevard of howling gale

Of sun that sets and ships that sail

Tips us toward a common goal

Where earth enfolds all but the soul

© Janet Martin