Time

Like the great theologian Steve Miller said:

Time keeps on slippin',slippin' into the future.

Heh, Cameron, I had to stop that playing in my head relatively recently. I forgot. You reminded me. It must have helped inspire this poetry.

Reminders of time being short are always helpful, whether the LORD returns or we draw our last breath.
How long have you been writing poetry?

We must redeem the time for the days are evil, as the Bible reminds us. I have been writing poetry sometimes since 20 (I am now 51).

Like the great theologian Steve Miller said:

Time keeps on slippin',slippin' into the future.

You slipped up and left out a slippin' ... LOL

Awesome. You should share more.

Glory be to God. Yes, I believe I should share more. How and where exactly? Here, sure. I think God has been emphasizing the message to write. Write what? A testimony or a book of poetry or what, I do not know? Where could it go, where would it lead, how would I know, and whom would chance read?

Like the great theologian Steve Miller said:

Time keeps on slippin',slippin' into the future.

The song that came to mind when I first read the OP was this one:

Rock Me to Sleep
Elizabeth Akers Allen 1832 -1911

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for tonight!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—
Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep!

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!

Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!

I miss you my mother plus childhood days.
Your care was so tender; in heart wonder plays.
Yet must I look forward then meet you to be,
To get it all over with; no more death's valley.