Seasons turn their colors,

Time slips through our fingers…

…sand surrounding a sea of breathing vapors

Blinking in and out of this realm…

Heartbeat

after

Heartbeat.

 

I know a place where time is fabled.

Those entrapped on this blue-green sphere,

Encased in tents of dust,

Believe it to be the salve for any

Affliction

of

the soul.

 

But it is not.

Time has not bound my grief like a tourniquet,

Nor quieted my cries like the icy cold of a numbing needle.

 

It has only proven that those made in an image divine are made to long — and must long —

For a Comfort far greater than even a century of summers

Come…

…and gone.

 

“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” -James 4:14

 

“Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.” -John 12:26