The Sands Of Time

Time is ever constant
on table's level line -
the hourglass sets steady.
It's all in God's design.

Will pride still hold me hostage,
tied tightly to my chair
and sitting at my table -
while sands are sifting there?

Final sand still empties out
and grains, will fewer be.
The hourglass sifts steady.
The sands of time test me.

When I see that hourglass
and wear, if I, a mask -
questions must be answered,
if questions, I still ask.

Will guilt and sorrow overcome
when sinful shadows cast -
if humble, I, right where I am,
repent of failures past?

Will perseverance ponder
temptations endless goal -
if faithful, I stand steadfast
in whom I can extol?

When the hourglass stands empty,
and life's race I have run -
will God look back upon my life
and say the words, "Well done"?