Joseph Martin III
The Last Twilight
If at the end of all things we could stand
upon the darkening shores of the last twilight,
every human soul now perfected in imperfection,
once bright stars and swirling galaxies dim,
all that is and all that was, even night itself
enfolds like a dying rose as endless time runs dry,
into the everlasting emptiness before our unblinking eyes.
We still would not know for sure His unwavering Love.
Our chained hearts still strain against our chests asking
to be free from an eternal sorrow only mankind knows.
Smiles will rise to meet His great and good heaven only when,
we watch, like so many long-lost children running to their mother,
all tears fall back into the sea.
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