Saturday, December 10, 2016

Calm Is The Morn...

 Yesterday Morning...
 This morning...

Calm is the morn from future rent
A beaming trace of He where none
Have seen the Light that lights the sun
And contends with man’s discontent

The universe His order heeds
Man’s will seems disposed to oppose
The hand that bends the bud with rose
And fathers mercy for his needs

How doth one teach the heart to trust
Or fathom soul’s eternity
Where none can decipher or see
Save He who forms this rebel-dust

…and splays across seasons of time
Morn over morn, from nail-scarred lathe
He presses grace to messy faith
And cups the ladder that we climb

We like to behold with the eye
It goes against man’s nature so
To trust the Unseen and let go
Of what we deem would satisfy

This mist we kiss then reminisce
Often remiss without intent
No wistful wish can circumvent
Or deter from its Promises

The spectrum of infinity
No one can grasp or understand
The earth is like a speck of sand
Pulsing with Immortality

Calm is the morn from future gleaned
And hinged to Eon’s Ever-tide
Where years will yield their prize and pride
And Soul from dust-cajole is weaned

Then teach us to number each day
Lest, when we touch Mercy, nail-scarred
This dust-to-dust is caught off guard
Oh, God forbid it ends this way

© Janet Martin

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