Seasoned Sighs and Sacred Ties

 Tell me, tell me, tell me, 

how can it be 

mid-November already!

Through a lighthouse window in Souris PEI

This tick by tock tinder

That burns to a cinder

And turns into winter

Sweet spring, summer, fall

Will, with the same measure

Take trouble and pleasure

And turn it to treasure

Of times we recall

This high and low motion

That rolls like an ocean

Through prayers of devotion

And love’s tender tears

Gathers in its surges

Time’s day to day splurges

Where what soft-emerges

Is echo of years

This window of wishing

And 'let's just go fishing'

 Is like a cook, dishing

Out fodder for thought

Where pirates of passion

And four-season fashion 

Are bound to a ration 

Of what soon is not

This bygone-bent sally

Of hilltop and valley

Of dashing or dally

Binds us to good-byes

For soon what we savour

Slips from us forever

To season the flavour

Of ‘my, how time flies’

This breath-by-breath peeling

Through which death is stealing

Is far more than feeling

Or seeing or need

Beneath skin-wreathed shutters

A deathless wing flutters

And Soul-fully utters

A Call all should heed

© Janet Martin

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