The days and nights they tumble on,
one day’s toes on tomorrow’s heels.
She grunts and forces her way upon
those who see time as cogs and wheels.
The endless hours push and shove
and jostle in hooded robe and shoes,
that heedless plod till more’s not enough
to hinder pathways trapped in ooze.
To catch the minutes wand’ring past,
their wings so sprightly fluttering by
’tis hopeless hope this die we cast
to tame this time, though hard we try.
Then stillness in this world should we
be after, solitude, tranquility.
God won’t rush, transforming, He,
our hearts from panic to civility.
So, let these moments taken now
to pause, reflect, encounter all
be God’s release of furrowed brow,
and stop…to smell the Fall.
Thanks to Lois Keffer for the awesome photo from her own Photoshop collection.