Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Heirs of Tomorrow





Yes, sometimes I forget
…it isn’t hard to do
And choose toil’s little odds and ends
Stealing time spent with you

How swift each season flies
A soft and subtle reach
Teasing the baby from our arms
While we hug, hold and teach

Once upon yesterday
We were children, carefree
And never gave a second thought
To love’s wise legacy

The tide that carried us
Still rushes ‘cross the wild
Now we leave in its wide-flung wake
Our footprints for a child

Here run tomorrow’s heirs
To everything we weave
We ought to touch with tender care
The moments in Time’s sieve

A child, but not for long
Time’s keen deliverance
Will leave those things we made for them
As their inheritance

© Janet Martin

Before supper I picked up fresh eggs at a local farm. A little boy was hammering two pieces of scrap wood together in the shed where they keep the eggs. When I asked him what he is making he told me 'a sled’ and without pausing he got up, pinched his creation in a vice-grip and began sawing the end with a small hand-saw. Next I asked him what he is going to use for the part to sit on, and again without pausing in his ‘work’ he replied, ‘oh, I don’t know yet’, his cheeks rosy from cold and exertion and his eyes gold with dream-dust.
What are we leaving these heirs of tomorrow?
…these precious, precious heirs!


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