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Hope's Core

by Janet Martin

This constant coming to grips with our mortality
Compels us not to think more highly of "me" than we ought
The shell that we inhabit only temporarily
Houses something we cannot see but should give earnest thought

Ignorance and denial of its presence cannot null
The inevitable of someday, face to face with He
Who breathed into mortal a Soul; this, imperishable
Yet none can expose it by microscopic scrutiny

And should we, cell by cell dissect, this skin and bone dust-tent
Still, none after thorough exam could utter, "there it is"
Where half-breath separation between flesh and Soul advent
Should stir a reassessment of the things that fill our days

The Son of God did not lay down His life to save mere flesh
But Deity wore flesh and died to save man's soul; Hope's Core
For death is hell but Life which He gives through His righteousness
Is Heaven in the presence of God's love forevermore

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This poem was a finalist in the March 2015 poetry contest

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