Tug of Time...

The color of New Season starts where old shades fade and fray

The tug of time entangles hearts where threads dangle and sway

Its shuttle weaves, with day-to-day’s morning to eventide   

A tapestry of far-off leas where fond farewells reside

The final destiny of dancing feet draws nearer, oh

The tug of time is bittersweet; soft kiss and bitter blow

And no one is immune to winds that tune the green-leaf hymn

Where touch of noon to noon soon siphons summer from the limb

The ebb and flow of new today-dreams beckons and beguiles

The tug of time lassos its prey with love-lessons and smiles

Yet always on the fringe of Celebration's gifts galore

Is a searing Sensation that there must be Something More

Its funambulist teases us with joys that steal our breath

Where tug of time always eases us toward its latest death

It etches laugh-lines to the face, oft traced with tender tear

And keens us to a time and place beyond the Now and Here

The color of New Season starts where erstwhile colors end

The tug of time draws us toward More than four seasons, friend

Then, wise the one who holds out hands and lets Time’s strands fall free

For a clenched fist can’t cup the mist that weaves a memory

© Janet Martin

 Teach us to number our days,
    that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Ps.90:12