For What Still Waits To Be...

 Sometimes I think I can make muffins in my sleep, so common is this weekly-or-more-ritual...

 ...but suddenly it struck me how much has changed through my muffin-making years!
The home-from-school-hungry-boy is a young man leaving for work at 7:00 every morning...

...no more mom-can-you-take-me-pick-me-up?

Moms, let's cherish our modest 'mundanes' because nothing stays the same for long...

Nothing remains the same

 For all that seems to stay

Such as the wick that wears dawn’s flame

And twilight snuffs away

...such as rainbows that spill

From bud-anointed loom

To bloom a little bloom until

Its petals fill earth’s tomb

Such as each season-sweep

That flickers but a glance

With splendors that no one can keep

Save perhaps, second chance

Such as life’s give and take

The ache of hold-let-go

Such as the memories we make

From wakes that ebb and flow

The tasks that we perform

Without much thought are such

That they are guaranteed to fall

Beneath Time’s tireless touch

...for poetry of words

Cannot persuade the clock

To linger where the dust is stirred

By foot-loose Goldilocks

No, nothing stays the same

Save this, a common plea

That God will grant His strength and grace

For what still waits to be

© Janet Martin