How Oft a Mother's Heart Is Torn...

A few weeks ago at the supper table Matt asked me
 if I've thought of it that soon the last day of school-bus will be here!
I asked him (just kidding) if he hasn't been reading my poetry lately?!!
 ...its sentimental flavor due in part to this morning's Event!

 Today's 'last' is recognizable, unlike so many!
Last school-bus pick-up morning!

 Suddenly an ocean of emotion washes over me...
kinda like the first morning our firstborn climbed aboard the bus for kindergarten!

... as through a blur of tears years

 the era of school-bus mornings...

 ...disappears!

How oft a mother’s heart is torn in mournful celebration

As soft time’s tender art is borne from brush to contemplation

Swift, suave, the rush of days runs rife, gathering moment-measure

From common camouflage of love and life… to echo-treasure  

There is no time to miss the kiss that cools so soon, my darling

Ah, look, where darkness clenched its fist it uncurls in new morning

Where hearts and arms and eyes agape with firestorms of feeling

Can sense its recompense take shape before the grand revealing

Who knew that joy in all its glory veils such sacred sorrow

Or how the boy and girl leaps far too fast into tomorrow

Or as the air sparkles with stars of sweet and childish laughter

It swirls and pearls like paint dripped from jars molding ever-after

There is no time to stand and peer too long where one door closes

The hurt that love can engineer is worth its loss of roses

For always on the thorny stem that hoists the fading hours

Pulses a budded diadem, soft-bursting with new flowers

© Janet Martin