Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Season-sparks

this poem was sparked by the soundless spiral of a petal...

We've gone from This...


...to This



...to This! in a matter of weeks! (4, I think)






How swift a season sets a match to moments tinder dry
No one can find a net to catch the sparks that upward fly
How soon the garden-patch showcases a seed’s wondrous ways
While barefoot laughter races through life’s care-unhindered days
Oblivious and chivalrous to time’s unbridled flight
While morning sheds its blush cocoon, and noon morphs into night

The flower flares ere petal ash settles its beaming score
Come, let’s not wait until too late to take the time to pore
Over a gate or arbor laden with bud’s maiden boon
Over the pretty pages of a summer afternoon
Over the landscape changing right before our very eyes
Where none can find a way to bind the seams through which time flies

The way to where we were is always barred by where we are
Then let’s not linger, looking back or wishing on a star
But rather, run our fingers through the fabric of today
Before its gold turns misty blue then fades into the fray
Of yesterdays, gossamer-gray and always out of reach
For none can stay the waves of dusk that wash across yon breach

We’re all in this together, getting older by the hour
All learning how to weather where we’ve never been before
Coming to terms with what time gives and takes, momentous must
As lessons of relinquishment compel us to adjust
Our points of view where vantage points are altered or estranged
Where no one can persuade time’s hand to leave the sheave unchanged

Let’s never take for granted, morning’s easy come and go
For soon the seeds we’ve planted turn to reaping what we sow
While Now-to-Then beneath a swaying sickle soon is felled
Where none can stem the trickle filling seasons, briefly held
Like brushstrokes on a canvas that keeps changing its façade
Each season softly dances to the music played by God

© Janet Martin






Eccles.3:1
To everything there is a season, 
A time for every purpose under heaven:

Psalm 103:15-18
As for man, his days are like grass;
As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
16For the wind passes over it, and it is [b]gone,
And its place remembers it no more.
17But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
On those who fear Him,
And His righteousness to children’s children,
18To such as keep His covenant,
And to those who remember His commandments to do them.

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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