Now bud has borne its bloom, now bloom its vim
The touch of time’s caress is keen and sure
Now splurge of leaf is severed from the limb
And none can its recovery procure
From stricken stem a host like angels wings
As miracle of seed its ranks deploys
Now, even in death’s hour nature sings
Where hope is scattered beneath dulled decoys
…we trample its seasoned dust-to-dust path
Always twixt Imminence and Aftermath
Now glory-hallelujah sings the morn
And we are caught up in its gray-gold stride
Where soon what was abounding and new-born
Is weary-worn on dusklorn countryside
And we are weary too, blue interjects
And deepens ‘til the breadth of sight is still
The Crossing-guard where night-day intersects
Is kind and tucks the skyline to the hill
…we watch with what remains; a wait-trust sprawl
Akin to earth where autumn flung its shawl
Now is a very present Circumstance
It does not mitigate or disappear
But offers up a virgin second chance
Before it resides in Past’s belvedere
Like bud that bore its bloom and bloom its gem
Like day that wore its allotment of light
Like earth that surrenders its diadem
To the Ruler of seasons, day and night
…like we who live in slow surrender too
Yet push against its deepening of blue
© Janet Martin
