Little windows show us shocking visions,
Tempt us to expect what is not fitting,
Make into our minds subtle incisions,
May be slyly twisting and remitting
Our convictions. Still, we give attention.
Still, we turn away from concentration.
Still, we stoop to savage condescension.
Still, we step into the conflagration.
Portals to such vast opportunities
May, in truth, be endless winding hallways.
Consider steps in these communities.
Keep perspective. Know that there is always
More to life than windows ever show us,
More to lose than windows ever show us.
Photo by ROBIN WORRALL on Unsplash
At the word of the Maker, the earth
Is brought forth to revolve round the sun
To the praise and the glory of one
Who possesses an infinite worth.
He shines forth from perfection’s high’st form,
From great Zion, with sounds of a choir.
Ev’ry step is preceded by fire;
When he walks, he is shrouded in storm.
His salvation is given, not bought,
For he owns all that we could present.
Sacrifices for vices are spent,
Yet they profit the Almighty naught.
So walk not in the pathways of death.
Ponder life ‘fore your lips claim his pow’r.
Let the fear of the Lord fill each hour,
And let thanksgiving fill ev’ry breath.