Weeklies

This Our Race

This Our Race

Now on the five wheels of this race
Turning to this distant place;
Four below touch, cast back the ground,
Whose hands that touch the one are found?
All the world lightly is the load,
The course of every heart the road;
Without a pause to stay the run,
To the stop when the world is done.
“Now” is the key to seal the mind,
“Then” is safely sealed and left behind;
In death and life one line for all,
That all may hear a single call:
The end of the road still unseen,
Unfeared by one whose hands are clean.
Oblivion’s fog shuts in our sight:
Our end is nearing through the night,
The judgment hasting to perfect;
Arriving bright, our God’s elect.
All flight is stripped from every crime
For all within the car of Time.

 – Patrick Lauser

Support our work on Patreon!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *