The Wonderworld of 'Will' or The Best of 'This'

Oh, the wonders of tomorrow...

Little grand-daughter sighed with ecstasy  as she relived

 a euphoric plethora of summer memories

 while peering through winter's window...toward spring!

Tomorrow will soon be today's challenges and joys

Tomorrow will soon steal today's girls and boys

Tomorrow will change (for better or worse) what Today still is

Tomorrow is a world away; let's make the best of This

'Grandma, why did you tape the door shut?', questioned grand-daughter the other day.

"Because it's not very tight", I replied "and we need to keep the shivery wind outside!

But, one warm, wonderful sunny day Gramma will take the tape off!

We will open the door and set the rocking chair and flowers

 back on the deck and have tea out there

and read books and have campfire suppers!

 Won't that be a happy day?!!"

And grand-daughters eyes sparkled with heaven-like anticipation as she sighed,

'ye-e-eth!! and aunty Mel will be here too, right?'

' Oh, I hope so,' was all gramma could promise😅💖

I've always believed anticipation is one of life's purest pleasures,

but let's not miss what is while we dream, right?!

Someday porch flowerpots will brim with pretty petal-plumes

The wooly-white woodland will ring with reawakened tunes

The meadow will be like a green-spun picnic blanket spread

Beneath a canopy of sun-kissed blue skies overhead

The barren branch will burgeon with hues of replenished shade

The gale will gentle its halloos into a serenade

Raindrop-waltzes will wash the world and rouse earth from its sleep

And windows will not frame counterpanes unfurled, white and deep

New beginnings will flower and blossoms will deck the grass

Dreamland’s barred gate will lower and beckon us to trespass

The quiet interlude between harvest and Planting Must

Will turn into a bustling scene of machine-startled dust

The clock will feast on a buffet of quickened hour-chime

Hearthside evenings borne away until next winter-time

And we will taste spring’s cheeriness that waits within our thought

And we will wear the weariness we had somehow forgot

And we will wonder at the way each season swiftly spills

While hunger scavenges hope’s tray that each new day refills

And we will bow our head in thanks to mortal’s gracious God

Where we will soon join silenced ranks in earth’s grave-stippled sod

The wonderworld of 'will' is filled with what yet waits to be

With tears and laughter not yet spilled into a memory

But, lest we miss the best of This that will fill yesteryears

Let's make the most of what yet is before it disappears 

© Janet Martin

Genesis 3:19
By the sweat of your brow you will eat your bread, 

until you return to the ground--because out of it were you taken. 

For dust you are, and to dust you shall return."

Eccles.12:7

Then the dust will return to the earth as it was,

 And the spirit will return to God who gave it.