When morning pours through Mercy’s doors
And bathes the dark in waves of gold
As the scepter of daily wars
Is firmly placed into our hold
Where a new tint in Time has dawned
Tell me then,
How will we respond?
How will we respond?
When what we had is laid to rest
And we are left with what remains
Where what we have renders its quest
Before it slips to Bygone plains
Never to vex or tease the eye
Tell me then,
How will we reply?
How will we reply?
When what across yon shore breaks free
And what we newly see takes shape
As it flows into history
Where only echoes can escape
As breath-by-breath we near death’s pact
Tell me now,
How will we react?
How will we react?
© Janet Martin
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matt. 6:34
We should give our best to what is, because
soon what is will be what was!
Future-present-past, a seamless cast
That does not pause
So true, all of it.
ReplyDeleteThank-you Dayle, Morning is most commonly my space I carve our for a bit of writing. This morning I looked up and yelped, grabbed camera, jumped into boots and dashed out to where I almost missed a spectacular Hello from Heaven. When hubby rolls his eyes at all the sunrise pics in my photo folders I tell him I just can't help it because they are all sun-rises I've never seen before!!! ;-) but then as I stood their overcome with the beauty of it, it seemed Someone asked me, Now, how will you reply? (gave me goosebumps!) My 'reply' isn't earth-shattering. it looks like laundry, playing with little boy and toys etc. planning, starting supper all in humble gratitude to God.
Delete