…and here we are, recipients of heaven-glimpses, oh
Gentle, the morning melts the dark like springtime melts the
snow
The hour spreads and ripples, its circumference exhales
To tint with periwinkle pasture-lane in star-like veils
These glimpses hush our pleading for the clattering of
things
And somehow what we’re needing spills to earth from
seraph-wings
Behind the gray of rainy day, we know an ocean waits
Its ether hold will pour like gold through heaven’s broken
gates
Today is quite unlike its predecessors, none before
Has ever worn its garment or passed through Time’s two-fold
door
And when it disappears, then, only then will this day be
A button on the uniform of bridled history
Here we are; tomorrow is a foreign fantasy
But ah, today implores from us the best that we can be
To touch kind heaven-glimpses with the wonder of a child
To let our fingers linger where the love of God runs wild
What good are our long faces with our bellies full of bread?
Unfold those fists; God’s graces are not drum-rolls for the
dead
Where dread and worry tramples beneath ever-seeking feet
Love’s delicate examples of God-gifted meadow-sweet
Here we are, but only for a little while then we
Like Time, but with a soul will fade into eternity
Our remnant like the seeds that fall where barren blossoms die
Come, now the hour pleads from God, ah, how will we reply?
© Janet Martin
...my first reply will be with cloth and broom, then we'll see;)
