Tuesday, December 29, 2020

So Soon Strewn Behind

 

This poem 'happened' as I was thinking about my brother-in-law and his wife 
about to hand over the home-farm to their son and wife 
who are excited to become parents soon,
 My brother-in-law will leave the place he has called home all his life,
because he took over the family-farm from his mom (not so very long ago, it seems)
Needless to say, this is a Bittersweet time.


The above photo was taken five years ago at Christmas
as we drove in the laneway,
 knowing doors would be flung open to warmth from the woodstove pouring through,
tables laden with lovingly-prepared favourites, 
and to laughter, so much laughter💗
We had intended to have a final, farewell dinner here this year 
but that didn't happen due to Covid-restrictions.


This wheel-and-deal of daily grind 
This ever forward-flight 
Grants only what we leave behind 
So, hold, but not too tight 

This here-and-now that steals our breath 
With oceanic wave 
Always succumbs to shore-line’s death 
And Bygone’s brimming grave 

The old-farmhouse where once we grew 
And knew love’s finest joys 
Is fondly handed over to 
Tomorrow’s girls and boys 

While we with tear-wreathed fondness gaze 
Across the quickened years 
And wonder at life’s age-old ways 
…how swift time disappears 

For we, in the thick of love’s fight 
Abreast the westward tide 
Often forgot the sacred rite 
That tunes the common stride 

Where moms and dads, not long ago 
Wore winsome threads of youth 
Ah, when did Wisdom’s crown bestow 
The snows of Telling Truth 

How near the yesterday still seems 
When we with star-blind eyes 
Peered through Kaleidoscope of Dreams 
Toward some far-off Prize 

How subtle is the pledge that drives 
Its weightless wedge between 
Hellos always hinged to goodbyes 
What is to what has been 

As we become the meeker ranks 
Of much less understood 
Yet gladder in the humbler thanks 
Of knowing God is good

The measure of a photograph
Though fine and fitly framed
Is always but the aftermath
Of what the Past has claimed

So whether we are young or old
The thing to keep in mind
Is to treasure the moment-gold
That soon is strewn behind

How soft and suave the hours fly
Through living's loving fuss
To fill the framework of a sigh
With memories of Us

© Janet Martin

Psalm 90:12
So teach us to number our days, 
That we may gain a heart of wisdom.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed by the visit! I welcome and appreciate, if thought you care to speak; the value and the input of compliment or critique