old days must die

the splendor of the day  
that mountaintops delights  
and smiles on valleys  
is not nearly enough  
in its suspended state  
to stay alive  
soon it must face decay  
and drink the with’ring light  
that bends the lilies  
for night comes in the rough  
and sleeps in until late  
and doth connive  
God’s great big world to droop  
where evening shadows snoop  
until His mighty hands  
the sun revive  
 
a daily sacrifice  
bleeds on the ancient page  
of God’s creation  
for day must daily die  
and animals and man  
and all their moments        
the serpent’s cowardice  
earth’s passions to enrage  
bears no cessation  
echoes the awful cry  
deep in the dark whence comes  
no self-endowment  
the bitter taste clings fast  
dark remnant of the past  
old days must die to bring  
dawn’s sweet atonement  
 
© Copyright 2019 September 24  
by Clyve A. Bowen♫