The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
~From the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
I do not know what still awaits or what the morrow brings, but with a glad salute of faith, I hail its open wings! Then sing all hearts that are full of cheer with never a thought of sorrow; the old goes out, but the glad young year comes merrily in tonight.
Sing to the Lord a new song for He has done marvelous things. ~Psalm 98:1 ✝
We have to dare to be ourselves,
however frightening or strange
that self may prove to be.
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before-”
(What? Before you reach the morning…)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
Now there is time and
Time is young.
~Excerpted lines from a poem
by May Sarton
Therefore each of you must put off falsehood… ~Excerpt from Ephesians 4:25 ✝
**Images via Pinterest; collage created by Natalie