Gossamer Origami

Dawn pools, pale pink expanding until nighttime folds to day

The morning of it turns to noon then dusk folds it away

Those virgin heights we scaled, regaled with daydreams, disappears

The breadth of morning, noon and night folded to yester-years

From reams soft- tumbling overhead, unframed nuances swell

Through fingers fumbling with fresh threads that fold into farewell

And what once beamed with newness and the grandness of intent

Folds into solitude, the noise of it like a storm spent

Our tears and fears fold into hope as hands fold into prayer

The dark that folded up the day unfolds a golden stair

And we advance, uncertain of the ways of love and life

Time’s dancing lessons folding into leaps of joy and strife

Gossamer origami that no one can intercept

Or still time’s fingers flying where our sighing is inept

Save to fold into wishes what kisses cannot restrain

Where what is soon folds into what will never be again

© Janet Martin