How Shall I Count the Time
How shall I count the time? Shall it be days?
Night’s hopes die yearning, restless for the next.
A measure of this sort, if one obeys,
Leads short and certain to a crossroad vexed.
Or shall I count by months the time and tide?
Will February rise and fall so soon?
Inexorable march, one’s patience tried;
Will lions turn to lambs inopportune?
Hope springs forth new, now melting icy powers.
For man’s time, not his own, is what perturbs,
Best seasoned by the passing of sweet hours,
By Kairos, the most fragrant of the herbs.
Oh Lord, I won’t be anxious, for it’s true:
A promised room prepared; my home's in you.
—————
for the 2022 Marathon Mile 9 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written 02/01/2022
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