Sometimes something as simple as a small Christmas card can spark a shower of echoes...
where bliss of innocence never gives Time a second thought
(is the scene below not purely idyllic?!)
Can't you hear the creak of snow beneath the rudders of the sleigh,
the lilt of youthful voices stirring white silence...
the horses eager snort, as they break through pristine sweep
showcasing the startling artwork of shadows!
New day, like morning’s child stretches and yawns; dawn
turns time young
The weathered stead that twilight tethered is a foal once
more
Where on the air an untouched stair of raring grace is
hung
The space that morrow’s Thought will trace where Yet
begets Before
Ah retrospect; a room that opens up its one-man view
As memories and echoes culminate to paint a scene
Where once upon a childhood ‘neath untarnished gold and
blue
We peered through star-filled eyes to life, so rife with
virgin green
Then time was on our side, it seemed and we forgot its
haste
But kicked it in the flanks and urged it on toward the
dream
A rider on a stead too docile for hope’s heady taste
We tore across wide open fell like geldings full of steam
…and somewhere in the rise and set of Yet, Was grew and
grew
And fact insisted that we reign in foolish fantasy
While filling flawless air with all the pictures that we
drew
While living in the moments making, shaping history
…while waking our senses to the truth we all must face
Time waits for no one, head held high with fire in its
feet
And always young at daybreak where its diverse droves
give chase
The proof of mileage tattooed on the rider in its seat
And somewhere in the process of learning’s kick and caress
The stars turn into dust pressed hard upon time’s beaten
track
Where once-upon-a-childhood startles retrospect’s finesse
With happiness much humbler from fence-lines of looking
back
© Janet Martin
