To We Who Yet Breathe...

Come, come the sum of moments is not quite accomplished yet

The hum of this and that resumes its course on dawn-spun lane

And you and I, oh my, oh my, and you and I are let

In spite of our dear-oh-dears another ‘try again’

The best and worst of us is not enough to still the tide

That brims across the sky wide scrim of periwinkle hush

In hymns of holy, holy, darkness pales until the light

Is like a raving river rushing through bramble and brush

What royal invitation fills the air with hope’s applause

What Awesome Obligation urges us to sally forth

Where God-breathed salutation re-refurbishes our cause

And His recommendation fills each humble task with worth

Come, come, the sum of seasons spent is not quite finished yet

Though summer scatters pieces of its heart beneath our feet

See, see the air is like a heaven-banquet table set

And we are the invited guests to break time’s bread and eat

© Janet Martin

Where, oh, where did this week go?!
We have a day to sweep up its crumbs!
Happy Friday, all!