Monday, July 1, 2013

The Way of Things...





We cannot keep the morning
From the afternoon
Nor quell the long blue shadow
Spilling from twilight’s spoon
We cannot pause the moment-rush
The bitter or its sweet
Nor keep the flower’s petal-blush
From falling at our feet

We cannot still the landscape
Charged with our hopes and dreams
Or bind the hour’s billowed cape
Filled with echoed requiems
But we can love, give thanks and pray
And weep if so we must
For soon the flower falls away
As dust returns to dust

We cannot clench the colors
Of seasons as they pass
Nor plot to save the hours
Surging through Time’s wee glass
We drink from founts of mercy
Its offering and then
The flower fades, all but the soul
Returns to dust again

© Janet Martin




2 comments:

  1. so much we have little control over...but we will always know how we feel...beautiful Janet! x

    ReplyDelete

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