Of Life's Impetuous Rush

The waning edge of daylight’s dwindling sigh

Dissolves as blue on deeper blue descends

Until tangent and intangible blends

The hues that draw the line twixt earth and sky

Where we are held in Time’s delicate glance

A little while, to taste life’s wander-lust

Poured in a glass; the bitter-sweet romance

Of vintage dream’s before they turn to dust

And aspirations of our untried youth

Like cull of hull have borne the fruit of truth

The inevitable begins to yield

What our resistance cannot keep at bay

For who can brush the dusk from yonder field

Or pluck from it the rendering of a day

Or who can quell the echo of a sigh

As love employs its impetuous rush

Against the darkness of the midnight sky

Vexing the onyx void of star-frothed hush

Where ebb and flow of retrospect endears

The whisper of its memory in our ears

On yonder brink the morn of morrow waits

The oracle of hope and mystery

But none succeeds the hour to pry its gates

Or knows the formula of what it will be

We have only this moment on our tongue

To taste its offerings of salt and blood

Before too soon we are no longer young

Touching the footprints where our fathers stood

And murmuring as those who’ve gone before

How swift this little life-time is no more

© Janet Martin

Today someone mentioned how at a certain point in life suddenly it hits you that no matter how old we get, life is short and passes quickly...something we cannot grasp when we are young. This afternoon I convinced those who were home to come on a walk with me and when they asked 'why?' I told them to spend time together and to make a memory, because after all is said and done, memories are the only thing we can keep. This poem is a sort of collection of those thoughts.