The Last Twilight Poem by Joseph Martin III

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.