Loathe not this little leap called Life
Nor its labor protest
After its wink of toil and strife
God grants eternal rest
Eternity cradles the sieve
Through which mute moments slide
Toward a glimpse none can achieve
Though many a man has tried
Upon the edge of Vast Unknown
We peer into yon blue
Ten-thousand skies, a flicker on
Forever’s avenue
To we who yet believe, in spite
Of what the masses say
Fix our gaze upon a Light
That does not dim or sway
Loathe not this strait of faith and fight
Nor its sorrow protest
After this little leap called Life
God grants eternal Rest
© Janet Martin
I find comfort in your first and last stanzas because, sometimes I need to be reminded that they are true, and you express it in a way that sticks in the memory.
ReplyDeleteit's so easy to lose Sight of the Reason for this fight! Thank-you always for your encouraging words.
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