The Final Year?
The present month has almost gone,
The next month's on its way,
For some, this year's the final year,
To laugh, or cry, or pray...
If they don't know this awesome truth,
There's not much left to say...
But if they do, that's like a gift,
Their thoughts no longer stray.
Yet what to do? What wondrous things?
What factors still apply?
What money's left to spend or save?
What's best they're meant to buy?
Who could they help before they part,
The ones who still ask, Why?
But funerals still cost the earth,
No matter what they'd try...
Perhaps it's just a false alarm,
With Christmas seen again...
No accidents, no twists of fates,
Just setbacks now and then...
Perhaps through prayer they'd still survive,
Not knowing until when,
But life's a gift each day we live,
It's all beyond our ken...
No wonder, then, we waste our time,
Ignoring here and there,
Or drive fast cars, quite recklessly,
As if we didn't care...
What would we do to save our skins,
Our precious lives to spare
And would we truly trust in God,
Meet Jesus in each prayer?
Another year, till time runs out,
The sands of time descend...
To signify the gift God grants
To every foe and friend...
What will you do? What will I do?
Let's choose not to pretend...
The Holy Bible's there to read,
To love and comprehend...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2014.
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Comments about this poem (The Final Year? by Denis Martindale )
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