Flower-arranging and Father Unchanging

 Yesterday's storms battered flower-gardens...but soon new flowers will bloom, new dreams will waken.

Everything changes with nothing but hours

Spring’s barren range soon grows heavy with flowers

And where seduction of dream lured our thought

Soon we surrender them to what is not

Back in that place where we didn’t lament

Morning and evening’s swift folding of tent

We urged clocks onward and we didn’t care

… all roads were leading to greener Somewhere

Now we are old enough to recognize

How brief this family beneath Time’s skies

We soon will slumber where forefathers sleep

While here we number the years in our keep

Everything changes but God never will

He breaks the bud still asleep on the hill

Giver and Gatherer, Thy will be done

Kind loving Father to everyone

Though we may mourn, ‘tis with reverence now

Beneath the thorn of life’s roses we bow

Everything changes with nothing but hours

God rearranges our groaning with flowers

© Janet Martin