Careening Earth
What is time that we should be its victims?
Spinning round on an ever- circling sphere,
Hurried moments and those quiet and serene,
Passing, fleeting day, month and year;
Relentlessly turning on and on.
When children, we long to grow old
When old, we wish we were young
But the days always string along and unfold
Exactly at their own pace.
The time given to us is short,
Eternity out of our grasp
Until the day our time runs out
And our Savior’s hand we clasp.
Forever is a subject unknown
By mortals, whose lives are but a line
Life so short and bittersweet
Hurtling through the space of time.
Though this earth cannot last
And is confined to present, future, past
Let us not tie ourselves to its empty space
For our souls won’t forever be bound to time and place.
Something much greater than all earth’s strife
Is written by a master’s hand on human life
Given its value by a powerful bidder
Who would even redeem a sinner.
No matter the cost, despite our low worth
We were not made confined to this careening earth.
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