Bubbles

Today I watched the bubbles,
That floated through the sky.

Today I watched the bubbles,
That floated through the sky.
So gentle and so graceful,
Their colors floated by.

An infant’s hand had blown them;
A darling little boy;
So light at heart and cheerful,
He found a moment’s joy.

So like the world’s brief pleasures,
They won’t remain in hand.
They linger but a moment,
And pop if e’er they land.

When all is still and quiet,
No trouble in the air,
For just a little longer,
Perhaps they’ll linger there.

Perhaps they’ll give some pleasure;
Perhaps they’ll catch your eye,
And grant a brief diversion,
Like bubbles in the sky.

But there is nothing in them
To satisfy the heart.
As quick as they’re inflated;
So quickly they depart.

There is a truer substance,
Not seen with carnal eyes;
But faith has eyes to see it,
And hands to grasp the prize.

Not like the bubbles, flashing,
To only disappear,
Its hope is long enduring;
Its joy, eternal cheer.

It is the hope of heaven,
Which God for us has made;
Not blown for just a moment;
Its joys will never fade.

Nita Brainard