Wick of Day...

The wick of day is kindled with Mercy’s majestic flare

Where quick of tick and tock ignites and dims the scrim of life

As twist and turn of wish and earn soon fades into thin air

Or so it seems; a source-less stream of moments running rife

Time’s give and take soon births an ache within this skin of Soul

Where trust becomes a must to thwart the fear of The Unknown

Man’s dust facade designed by God cradles a holy toll

Inhale, exhale dissolves this fragile veil of blood and bone

The Hand that stirs the land with light and strews the night with stars

Severs the silver cord and breaks the golden bowl of breath

The Lord of earth and Heaven set His seal beneath flesh-bars

In Living Soul; revealed in whole at a Door known as Death

The Destinies that Doubt defies and Unbelief denies

Lends Purpose to Believers who hold Faith’s salvation fast

Where wick of Day is kindled with far more than ‘how Time flies’

And quick of tick and tock ignites far more than shadows cast

© Janet Martin

 "Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, 

or the pitcher be broken at the fountain,

 or the wheel broken at the cistern. 

 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: 

and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." 

Ecclesiastes 12:6