These are the day’s we’ll look back on in days to come,
my dear
Better and worse are soon immersed in past’s elusive
sphere
And in the din of grit and grin and aspiration’s reach
We learn that what we earn returns with something new to
teach
Aha, the law of life is such no one outgrows its school
Beneath the birth and death of touch we break its Golden
Rule
While waking to the wonder of Mercy’s unflinching rod
Bequeathing to our blunder, dear, the tender grace of God
…where the spirit is willing, yes, but oh, the flesh is
weak
And wisdom comes as humanness submits to reproof’s tweak
Where all that we can do, my dear, as year to year adheres
Is but to keep on keeping on and trust God with our fears
…and not give in to wallowing in quagmires of regret
Futile, the fumbling with a key to doors in Bygone set
But, bow the head instead, to pray, because this much is
clear;
These are the days we’ll look back on in days to come, my
dear
© Janet Martin
But one thing I do:
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead...
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!