Of Gossamer Glints

Years blur, and stir within the soul a song of long ago

The hour, like a flower blooms in full color then fades

We cannot cradle long in hands, the joys that we love so

But teach the heart to keep the art of whisper-soft parades

Daylight, with deft dexterity, plays heaven-violins

How subtle is the shuttle that deepens indigo hue

The lilt of little moments turns a phantom loom that spins

From tattered cloth, gossamer monuments of me and you

The touch and taste we cherish hastens into nevermore

And none of us can garner living’s blitz like bits of sand

Both highs and lows soon perish like waves dashed upon the shore

And all that we have left of them are shimmers on thought’s strand

The sum of all we have and hold can cut us to the quick

Where from and to is often wooed at last by farewell’s tear

While pendulum of come and go with common tock and tick

Composes masterpieces that the heart alone can hear

© Janet Martin