Moment Of Glory Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

In the middle of the night all of life stands still,
breathless, waiting for it's moment of glory.

Knowing that it will find no way of becoming whole
until morning light comes and shines upon it.

Fascinating serenity falls next in line, raspy, full
of antagonistic prayer, unfolding life itself,
leaving open, a heart which is totally vulnerable.

Sifting through wanton debri of the past, life suddenly
turns away, running faster.

Never catching up to itself again, falling short of
progress, dying in sin, never to be blessed again.