Thursday, February 18, 2016

Gossamer Origami





Dawn pools, pale pink expanding until nighttime folds to day
The morning of it turns to noon then dusk folds it away
Those virgin heights we scaled, regaled with daydreams, disappears
The breadth of morning, noon and night folded to yester-years

From reams soft- tumbling overhead, unframed nuances swell
Through fingers fumbling with fresh threads that fold into farewell
And what once beamed with newness and the grandness of intent
Folds into solitude, the noise of it like a storm spent

Our tears and fears fold into hope as hands fold into prayer
The dark that folded up the day unfolds a golden stair
And we advance, uncertain of the ways of love and life
Time’s dancing lessons folding into leaps of joy and strife

Gossamer origami that no one can intercept
Or still time’s fingers flying where our sighing is inept
Save to fold into wishes what kisses cannot restrain
Where what is soon folds into what will never be again

© Janet Martin





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