Time-song

The exodus of winter

Becomes spring’s arrival

But we cannot see time’s nimble-soft feet

Or the spawning of moments

As they tumble and trickle

Translucent as wind-song that sallies and sweeps

In ageless anthems

Across ambling waters

Teasing the travel of childhood’s wee brook

Folding to history

Its innocent chatter

Winding through pasture and timber-lined nook

Moments form ages

Yet age is a moment

When weighed in the balance with eternity

Time rolls toward us

From ethereal oceans

Dissolving on shores of infinity

We cannot leap forward

To the unknown before us

Nor turn again to its measure when past

But oh, what a wondrous

Perpetual chorus

Flows from the grace of the First and the Last

Departure, arrival

Mystic paradigm

As springtime evolves into summer’s blue haze

Yet still moments spiral

The essence of time

Forming life’s minutes, then hours, then days

Spinner of seasons

And lifetimes and centuries

Joy and grief rival in pleasure perplexed

Moment by moment

The edge of eternity

Closes the gap twixt this life and the next

© Janet Martin

I looked at these old trees and the ageless brook,

existing in nothing

but a sequence of moments.

How gracious God is...He doesn't shove life at us

in one huge lump, but in tender little moments.

Wonderful nuggets of potential. Even this mighty tree began as a tiny seed.