Gossamer Change

The other day as Emily left I realized, now that she’s married some things are the same; I am still mother, but suddenly we relate, not only as mother and daughter but as wives…

I could only half-sense then

How life changes with ease

Well-wishers fading to the night

Like laughter on the breeze

And memories tucked tenderly

Into thought’s treasure-trove

Change wears gossamer subtlety

Her fingers brush the grove

With echoes where our summer fell

In leaf by leaf descent

As hours from an ether well

Unveiled their mute intent

And Change, disguised as dinner-times

Or duty’s endless noise

Exchanged those goodnight nursery-rhymes

And boxes full of toys

For other loves and interests

Through fleeting touch they pass

A swift and soundless earnestness

In living’s hourglass

While firesides still flicker

Bells peal for joy and grief

And every year is quicker

Change is such a silent thief

Yet gives within its taking

If we pause we will see

That Change is ever shaping

Those things still meant to be

© Janet Martin

Change...oh, what a quiet constant.

In my tidyings this morning I smiled at this memory…

When I returned home yesterday afternoon after coffee at a friend’s house the little guy I babysit was tired so I wrapped him in his ‘blankie’ and sang nursery songs and rhymes and read poetry. He loved it turning his face up to touch mine every so often with a big smile and instantly I was transported to tender ‘long agos’…

His 4. yr. old brother Nicholas keeps me in constant laughter. Years ago I sewed a few rag dolls when my girls were little and as we were sorting through some toys yesterday I remarked that ‘we really need to get rid of some stuff, there’s too much here’

‘Oh, I play wiff evwee-fing, he said then paused suddenly and gingerly picked up a rag-doll by the hem of her dress, ‘actually, you can get wid of dese, I don’t play wiff dem!’