Impressions of Sand or So It Flows or Patriarchal Sparkle

I couldn't settle on one title today.😏

This morning, as we pick up where we left off last night

may we have a real sense of Whose hands time's sands flow through...

Some summer tendrils snared a bit of autumn on winter's carpet

So it flows, wild woe and wonder 

Rising, falling, wave on wave 

Breakers of beauty and blunder 

Thunder through to Bygone’s grave 

In a sea of seasons sweeping 

Over time’s indulgent sands 

Holding, folding, laughing, weeping 

Dream-castles felled by demands 

Ever rushing and receding 

Over town and countryside

Curtain-fall and rise repeating

 Like an empyrean tide 

Pouring like sand, through our fingers 

While we touch what none can stay 

So it flows; where all that lingers 

Is a sense of Yesterday

What a shoreline lies behind us

Where momentous moments merge

From a Hand of loving kindness

To replenish what we purge

Of its sediment, impartial

To rudiments, vapour-thin

So it flows; a patriarchal

Sparkle pouring through our skin

 

© Janet Martin

Ephesians 2:10
For we are his workmanship, 

created in Christ Jesus unto good works, 

which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.