Tuesday, June 30, 2015

The Return of You and I





It’s thinking time; soft, soft you climb
Into the chamber of my thought
And suddenly the ivory
Of rib and skull are echo-fraught

Like a cradle filled with pieces
Tendered to love’s lullaby
I can feel you; thought releases
The return of you and I

Thought is both pastor and villain
Time steals with its giving hand
Innocence; saved for the children
Building castles in the sand

Past is put to pasture, but oh
Every little now and then
Thinking-time unbars its latch and
Draws thought to ‘remember when…’

Somehow I cannot detain you
I don’t really want to try
For then how else could I suffer
The return of you and I

© Janet Martin

Tedious jobs, like picking mint leaves from stems render thinking-time. How old are we when the see-saw in our heads tilts to the Past rather than the future...to what was rather than what will be...?
I like a fine balance of dreaming forward and looking-back learning;-)


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Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.