Ray of Reflection
A light sprung down upon the hour—
The day of rest had sprung alight;
From nights in toil, still had it shown—
Yet not as bright for the seventh.
Had God resumed His work that day,
Would man have sight of beauti’d peace,
Plowing day by day without eyes?
Behold! the ray of reflection—
Of thankfulness for all there is;
Hearts quicken to end the tension—
To the bite of the serpent’s lie.
Behold! the truth of correction,
Pre-molded by the hands of God!
Shall man fall so quickly to sin,
With eyes guided to close in peace?
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
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