squander moments

morisot.jpg

Morisot

Where is my wisdom?
I seek to reconcile –

What I started,
I shall finish.

I have missed my purpose;
I have squandered a moment

Outward man shuns
Inward man.

My reflected image
Does not live.

I am fleeting –
Fading heartbeat in temporal death .

Alas, O swaying sapling
At wind’s command.

Your strength
Wanes in melancholy.

Dissipating, needing God,
His guardian eyes.

I know He is here
I know He waits.

Rick

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Dust

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Picasso

Aligned with vanity,
So much disappears
That holds hope;
That leads thought;
That blows away.
The dust knows not
The wind nor the ground –
Making peace with each
once, in a while.
Can it be my soul?
A foot on the rung
That Ascends,
Temporal to eternal.
Or, the heart of faith?
Firmly grounded in perspective
Greater than a day.

How shall I be?
Who am I now?

The heavenly voice
Engraved on my heart,
Shall ever be
The place where my soul
Is firmly cleaved.
And I shall be revived.

“My soul clings to the dust;
Revive me according to Your word.”
Ps 119 25,26