Duty comes a-spilling with the beauty of new day
So does mercy unfailing to cup all our come-what-may.
From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets,
the name of the Lord is to be praised.
the name of the Lord is to be praised.
Duty loomed large right from the get-go-do this morning, but somehow
between the mess-and-muddle-mayhem, mercy metes poetry...
Over and over I've come to the conclusion
that time does not lend itself to poetry
but poetry lends itself to Time!
I saw the day come spilling from a fount of ether tide
It rolled across the skyline over sea and countryside
It drew away the shadows on a chariot of gold
To set before our hungry gaze new day’s untarnished mold
I saw the dawn come seeping through yon deeper blue until
The darkness disappeared into Mercy’s promise fulfilled
Where, to life’s buffet table groaning with Hope’s rich supply
The Giver and the Taker lights the Beacon in the sky
I saw the morn come pouring over Bygone’s battered brim
Where in sight’s grand restoring, I could almost picture Him
And feel His whisper part the dark like waters of a sea
Where time is still an open Ark for all humanity
I saw the day come spilling through a flue of fading stars
Ah, look, the Hand that grants it is a Masterpiece of Scars
From love that none can fathom to the plight of human race
God rends the brooding heavens and extends his gift of grace
© Janet Martin
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