In certain moments we are suddenly gripped
With Realization, as we pause to think
Of how subtly, smoothly hours have slipped
In another year over Time’s fluent brink
And as we reflect on the invisible haste
With which fleeting life-times swiftly disappear
Surely we are challenged to savor and taste
Each morsel of living that forges a year
The ache in our throat and the sob in our chest
Sweetens the sorrow of loving and of loss
As Realization, in most earnest quest
Arouses awareness of dust’s feeble dross
For what is this life?... but a semblance of hours
In which all must be either servant or slave
Of this thing that softly, ceaselessly devours
The scope of our breath twixt the cradle and grave
Thus, in certain moments we are sacredly gripped
By the whisper of He who designs each life’s span
As subtly, smoothly another year has slipped
Far from the reaches and the will of man
© Janet Martin
Last eve we attended the wake of a neighbor in his 93rd year…
He leaves his wife, also in her 93rd year, to mourn with beloved family…
Birthday’s and Death…two keen reminders of the beautiful and sacred gift we hold in each day, for life, no matter how long, is a twinkle in the eye of eternity. Cherish it, hold it lightly and cling to the Giver.
