Thursday, December 17, 2020

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.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!