All Of The Days

Sitting in the center
of my own quiet hour
where only the minute matters;
ticking seconds of a life on loan
pass by like the rapid fire of summer
racing to embrace her fall's rest,
and this cumbersome weight of years
turns with the soft rhythm of a clocks hands,
effortlessly lifted in Praise
of all the seasons and all the days.

My Offering

...I am making an offering of my words,
dropping them into the collection plate of life
as it passes,
hoping they will seed goodness.