An Uncommon Sense...

 WE on the northeast-west side of the veil are 'enjoying' an early winter wonderland...

Time’s veil that hangs twixt God and man and keeps faith fraught with prayer

Keens an uncommon sense of more-than-duty to perform

How sacred are these steppingstone that hold our weight of care

Set with divine precision through hope’s battlefield and storm

Time’s veil, as sheer as air and yet no stare can penetrate

To see what lies beyond its wanting scope of sight and sound

Where what precedes the passing through exceeds this mortal crate

And puts us all together on need’s very common ground

Time's veil, so frail where blood-sweat-tears are shed repeatedly

Where centuries are laid to naught on this side of the grave

Yet all are but a dot compared to the eternity

That none can comprehend and all will be called on to brave

Time’s veil, lowered so we can only sense the face of God

So near, so very near, one mere half-breath will rend its string

Then face to face, immortal will replace this mortal clod

As sense becomes the substance of the faith to which we cling

© Janet Martin

 
Psalm 39:5
You, indeed, have made my days as handbreadths, 

and my lifetime as nothing before You. 

Truly each man at his best exists as but a breath. 

Selah