Time sculpts its youth into each dawn
It scatters stars on late-day lakes
And like a raven, perches on
The pinnacle of midnight’s gates
Time; what we make of it, my dear
Is what our legacy will be
It pulses with laughter and tear
Sustaining waning filigree
Time; what an awesome little Thing
A subtle sampling of its air
Where carefree youth soon feels its sting
And dons its albatross of care
Time; changeless beneath garb of change
A breath into the lungs and then
Death, dark with its Untold Exchange
Returns us back to God again
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!