How swiftly fly the lonely hours
In days and months, if I let God show how
To fill the gap now you have gone
From my life where your presence shone.
Six months your death, and eight to speak
Yet it only seems like yesterweek
Since you called my name and touched my hand
Lead me to the promised land.
How slowly turns the seconds hand
If I count the hours and the weeks
Of yesterdays and morrows dawn
God’s comfort yet I fail to seek.
Move on then mortal living time
For life is neither yours or mine
I’ll not count the moments of my grief
But move in time and with God shall speak
Until swiftly fly the lonely hours
When I let Him show me how.
© Helen Catherine Cramer
2nd February 1982