While Staring At and Through Tree Roots...

So many stood there, some a few moments, others lingering where laughter and chatter fell away in the panorama of thought...

Mute, maudlin melody murmurs from maple mandolin

We feel Time’s steel wheel tremor; seal its passage ‘neath our skin

Ah, slow the hand that holds the ladle of Time’s moment-stream

The tree root cups the cradle of Something more than a dream

Morning is like a merchant bent on buying Time to sell

It primes the tides whereon we ride on frigates of farewell

It tips its grail and fills noon’s sail before it dips as dusk

Devours hours until flowers fill its hull with husks

We stare where here-to-there unfurls a panoramic view

Green have-and-hold spills red and gold to Autumn’s avenue

Where once we laughed like virgin lovers strolling among trees

Before we bore the war of more than unlearned fantasies

My, my the years fly by and still we are surprised by them

Wonder thunders within us as we stand upon the hem

Of Something far, far bigger than time’s ticking never-more

As heaven holds the ladle and the tree root frames a Door

© Janet Martin