Beneath the umbrella
Of sunlight or star
Of noon, mellow yellow
Or moon, faint and far
The moment-streams trickle
Across centuries
And what we put in them
Are Time’s legacies
Beneath azure canopy
Or midnight’s sweet dream
Rivers of primrose
And anemone gleam
Only to wither
As all nature must
Back to its birthplace
In cradles of dust
Beneath tumbled portals
Of cloud-schooner fleet
Is the journey of mortals
And the moments we meet
Above this umbrella
Of undefined scope
Is the end or all moments
…and man’s living Hope
© Janet Martin
Beautiful, Janet ~ and I smiled to see "rivers of primrose" in there :) I'm up late because my son's allergies are acting up. He can't get back to sleep. Hopefully soon though...
ReplyDeleteThis was a very peaceful poem...made me feel a sense of calmness.
ReplyDeleteOE, I'm glad you felt the calmness...it is how I felt while writing it;)....somehow we tend to over-stuff moments, and then like to decorate them with fancy words....like stress;))
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your visit and thoughts as always!
Thank-you~
Megan...it all began with the primroses;))
...p.a. I do hope your son is okay. This spring has been BRUTAL for allergy sufferers!
ReplyDeleteBe well, my friend. I'm off to make the food for our little luncheon today:)