It came to me,
Who sent it?
And borrowed time,
Who lent it?
Who made my pain,
But meant it,
To cure?
Whose measure did,
Approve me?
When inspired, who,
Did move me?
What sacrifice,
Could prove me,
Secure?
I caught a glimpse,
Who threw it?
I found a breath,
And drew it,
That wholesome air,
Who lent it?
It came to me,
Who sent it?
O, I can only wait until the day,
When life will lastly find a course to run,
And when will Holy Wrath not be at bay?
When entropy is promptly overcome.
O, what a happy day that day will be,
When gravity is swiftly compromised!
The time, for me, will slow so I can see,
That such escapes were only prophesied.
And O, when worldly ones would seek their doom,
All screaming out for death to do them in,
Then I will look into the fire and gloom,
And see how so much worse it could have been.
For this, I am eternally in debt,
To Him, who gave His life for me to get.
Consider this: to live within a moment,
To die upon the end of moment’s span,
Means nothing of the Line as people know it,
The Line, and Space and Time who gladly roam it.
‘Tis dangerous as snakes, the foes of man.
But as each point in time received its fame,
The spotlight moved along as did the point.
And when a moment burned its revered flame,
The passing fire was snuffed. The next one came,
And burned and died, to live and disappoint.
So answer this: how can an earthly man,
Dare live a life within a moment’s space?
Without the thoughts of moments now at hand,
No bird nor beast does live inside that span,
For all should die when starts the next one’s pace.
But now the puzzle inquires a clever song,
It stacks upon itself a mystery,
Among the souls caught up in Heaven’s throng.
A Heaven moment, here, seems far too long,
But there, a moment is eternity.
