Thursday, December 28, 2017

Master Maestro (#2)




 I pulled over to take a few snow-shots at a local old-order Mennonite church
when from behind the church came a tractor with snow-blower . 
 The driver encouraged me to feel free to go behind the church to see the beautiful snow on pines...
 The pines framed the resting place of those gone before, with a holy hush....

This poem is a spin-off of the previous poem...(See Master Maestro #1 here


Time’s age-old arrangement begets
Estrangement; pink-gold pirouettes
Fall like snowflakes that melt and set
-tle echoes on the air
‘Hello, my love’, New day cajoles
Then spills its farewell-sugared bowls
Through gloves once new, now full of holes
From living’s wear and tear

Darkness recedes, unveils the ‘yet’
That forms what soon shapes retrospect
While slowly we gain new respect
For ways as old as time
Where time is like a Father, kind
Though he can never change his mind
About a song soon left behind
Like a gong’s fading chime

This birthplace laced with guilt and grace
Brushes days like tears from a face
As hungry arms reach and embrace
The matrix of joy; grief
It leads to where soft wind-song moans
Across a plot of rotting bones
Stippled with cold name-engraved stones
Testifying time’s Chief

Come, come, futile to stand and stare
At what we think we cannot bear
The Giver of time's who-what-where
Cradles its fragile nod
Look, look, night fades. We are immersed
In more than it may seem at first
The death to which this flesh is cursed
Opens the gate to God

 ©Janet Martin



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