Day breaks; its birth mantles the earth in breath of purple gauze
Ah, Nature never wearies of wakening fresh applause
Laugh-lines of grace gild this small place of sky and sea
and sod
Where its inhabitants are on time’s one-way back to God
Grass withers, flowers die, the loom of plume is stripped of
tulle
As law and order of the seed heeds death’s incumbent pull
Akin to we, the company of autumn’s idling bloom
Where nucleus of spring sleeps deep in earth’s life-guarding
tomb
These flower-hours run across our skin, the soul immune
To spinning wheels and seasoned reels that weave Time’s
daily boon
But, before the undressing of the Whole that none can touch
We revel in the blessing of morning, noon, bloom and such
Day breaks, then soon it melts pink lakes that swath its virgin
cry
And soon its noon dons footsteps to dusk’s blue-moon lullaby
Up and away each little splay of work-play ebbs like mist
Its tug-of-soul hinged to a great unfathomed Catalyst
© Janet Martin
No comments:
Post a Comment
I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!