The Flux That Forms the Crux...

Someday I will look back and they will too,

to hours spent at Janet's house...

My one wish is that they will take with them something that will help to shape them into who they hope to be...

How blithe the light that breathes times flight to what remains to be

How lithe the flux that forms the crux of our legacy

The orbit of a year grows thin, slips through our skin with ease

Both chancellor and rogue, its vim succumbs to memories

The motions we go through are not trite piffle; they become

The person we will be remembered for at life’s full sum

Time’s touch and taste affair from here to There, an awesome Thing

Where moments become far, far more than echoes on the wind

Look, within reach grace splays beneath us Opportunity

So what of grand faux pas, today is rife with What Will Be

Where What Will Be soon takes its place among surrendered peers

The highs and lows of love and life the thorn and rose of Years

Come, let us leave behind the things we grieve but cannot change

For soon too soon, this boon we cleave, eventide will estrange

Time’s Doorway to for-nevermore gapes; Now is taking shape

Becoming even as we breathe a glint in Past’s landscape

Before we come to warm our thoughts ablaze with yesterdays

Perhaps we should remember what Time’s dying ember splays

…this spark that warms the dark is like the tinder that becomes

The flux that forms the crux of life when it is said and done

© Janet Martin