Based on Psalm 49, this poem focuses on the fact that no man can prolong his life or the life of another by wealth, power, or prestige.
Our life is a dream;
Our time, as a stream,
Glides swiftly away,
And the fugitive moment refuses to stay.
We cannot make time, but we can and should make the best use of the time given to us.
But when I breathe my last, then I will fly...
After 25 years, the Lord has granted me the privilege to return to Mexico to see my friends.
Just like the trees, we blossom at different stages, some sooner, some later, but always right on time according to God's timetable.
I like the time of day when all is still,
The early morning crisp and cool and wet...
When I am free from other distractions, then I can hear the still small voice of my Father, and I can talk to Him as friend with friend.
If that’s what it takes to make my daughter feel that her childhood is complete, then I suppose it’s worth the cost.