Friday, November 20, 2009

A Dandelion Seed

Alas, alas, our days are as grass
Our wisdom a grain of sand
Alas, alas, the summers pass
As I, like a mute yet stand
Whilst time, like phantom infantry
Marches beyond the hills
Beyond the moon, beyond the sea
Beyond the starry sills

What is life; the meaning thereof
Is this an endless quest?
Thirst of the unknown, beneath, above
Is it foolishness at best?
Alas, alas, upon earths grass
I ponder the meaning of this
For I as all mankind will pass
Into the eternal abyss

Alas, alas, if but for one Gift
Our lives would be nothing more
Than the breeze that sets the seed adrift
Or the wave that laps the shore
A manger, a cross, an empty tomb
A Savior for mankind
Without which man would be dust of doom
A dandelion seed in the wind

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Read Isaiah 40.

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