Mercy of the Days

On a moving treadmill we are pushed towards an untimely end Yet the sun beats down its life giving rays Streams and rivers continue to flow We should be thankful for the mercy of the days and the mercy of heaven A cool breeze from the east lets us know where we stand Perhaps a song in the distance will reach our ears We are not alone! Poetry cuts into our souls like a hot knife through butter We should be thankful for small mercies