tap-dance a tittle-tune
on wide-eyed windows ...
These tiny dancers
have left their glass-galoshes at home,
unlike a few days before!!
Mercy of new morning graces
Time’s waysides of toil and test
We, from our perspective places
Turn our faces to the west
Break thy bit of bread from Heaven
From these crumbs of give and take
Comes a testament of living
Ere we lie where none will wake
From the doorway of man’s longing
Hope, like a scepter of fire
Lights the sheet-music of morning
For the members of time’s choir
Warriors of faith and duty
We take up love’s tools of trade
Walk the way of wraithlike beauty
In this day the Lord has made
Life and death, ah, half-breath barrier
Poised upon time's skiff of sod
Where this dust sails to the hour
That unveils the face of God
© Janet Martin
'look at all these buds', cried Victoria, 'that will never bloom!'
...and a little later she remarked thoughtfully, 'there are a lot of metaphors for life here...'