Thursday, August 21, 2014

Well-armed Stranger





Now yesterday has etched its shadow soft upon a street
It wanders through a wonderland where grief and joy compete
Moments that no one can exhume like scattered petals lie
Silk remnant of Time’s fullest bloom asleep beneath the sky
And new upon the orbit of untried and untrod way
Thus we embark; the dark relents emerging as Today

We’ve never met before and yet mindless we recognize
Your gentle chuckle like old folklore teasing far-off skies
Familiar yet stranger striding without backward glance
Over  highlighted agonies in ease and confidence
Ah, Maestro of moments, soon you set to memory
Those clandestine collections that only the mind can see

My, my, but you’re a heart-throb shedding colors to the dust
Rendering seeds of happiness; harvest is up to us
Suffused with free surprises you unfold from formless deep
To spill gold light in footsteps where your predecessors sleep
And where you etched your shadow soft upon thought’s palisade
You come, armed from somewhere aloft with mem’ries yet unmade

© Janet Martin

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