Wednesday, April 20, 2011

A Day of Turning

This is my salty deliverance
work for work's sake
a length of days I do not look for
everything builds to nothingness
I'm searching for certainty
But, I think this time is passing,
I think this time is ending so,
I live

Measures of times in bliss
Attack my memory
the torture--every morning of good dreams
to wake to this mystery,
doubting I was asleep

This fantasy, this dream, must be this decaying
substance that stares at me, from sunken sodden eyes
I dream I'll wake again in eternity
to find the whispering mind
not the words spoken
were true

This is my detestable time of labor
It does not end
God inhales, we sleep.

"Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit. Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away." James 4:13-14

No comments:

Post a Comment