There is always promise of tomorrow,
Present, though at times difficult to perceive….
Promises may seem to have no more substance
Than passing thoughts that haunt the Earth,
Move through atmosphere from heart to mind,
Dreams hidden deeply within secret dreams.
Sometimes they may be sensed in suffering
Cries of those who live in hunger…
Who thirst for something not yet here.
Perhaps they hear some voice in rising wind or
See wavering omen that reaches from distant stars.
There are many ways promises appear.
Each moment, each birth, each sunrise
Brings fire into instant living space—
There is no better name than grace,
Written in the Book of Life,
An expression of Everlasting Will or
Whatever name you choose of
Ten thousand names for God.
I wish there were more to say—
My spark dims as mystic vision
Circles, moves, fades, glows
But does not fully clarify beyond
This shadowed world filled with light and doubt.
Whatever promises now appear
Are made for the sake of the last end….
All promises rest concealed in Everlasting Promise,
Which remains for now unknown.