Frankly, they are so beautiful, the clouds.
When I catch a glimpse of their whiteness
skipping above the clear blueness of the sky,
drifting clouds make me smile wide,
whenever I see them pass by.
Jesus, please leave room for me by you
so that I might sit there
and weep, too.
For this road I trod has gone far ahead,
and the climb is oh so steep.
And, if I remain on the go,
this world's fate I will also reap.
Why should we have memories,
when we forget to remember?
Drag out the broom and sweep out this room.
And, then, put the broom far away.
For the room is no more --
And we must not stay.
Gone to wash off the soot and grime.
But, look for me when I come back
again in time.
Gather up these remains from yesterday
and gently tuck them safely away.
Those who are about to come along
will need us all one day.
Past the edges of time just beyond my window sill,
this aged woman strode by me.
I saw her from out of the corner of my eye,
but me she could not see.
She was looking through my eyes.
For, sad to say, I was she, you see.
Copyright (c) 2010. By Rev. Lainie Dowell.
The Mountainside Ministries. All rights reserved worldwide.
Received January 2, 2010, 5:54 a.m.
