Momentous Mementos

I am no weaver, I laughed, as someone suggested I might want to purchase a large loom for-sale at our local thrift store. 

But I was wrong. We all are weavers of a sacred thread! 

What are you weaving with the colors you hold?

Yesterday's colors ran through the carefree shrieks and laughter of children at precious play.

Today's threads, Lord willing, will be woven into echoes of a family reunion with cousins I rarely see!

As seasons spin time’s thinning thread

They weave far more than eye can see

With colors on the mind’s eye spread

Of moment turned to memory

How common Present seems, how small

Each segregated breath may feel

As tick and tock of clock-stock falls

Like stitches from a spinning wheel

No mortal valor, boast or creed

Can pause or slow the flow that slips

Into fathoms where daily deed

Is triumphed by twilight’s eclipse

Now you are there and I am here

Where smile and tear love’s While imparts

Before its moments disappear

Into the belvedere of hearts

…when all that will be left of ‘we’

(No one escapes that mortal dread)

Will be the ageless memory

Of what we did and what we said

The sweetest gift we all can give

No matter what our lot may be

Is to weave with each day we live

What leaves a lovely memory

© Janet Martin

The book Brantley seems thrilled to be holding was given to me by a friend/co-worker when Emily was born...the subtle shuttle of Time's luminous loom-in-us stuns us with its moment-ous mementos!