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.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!