Still, like May-green's subtle weaning...
Still, beneath Time’s rushing edict
Light and darkness
ebb and flow
Like green hills soft-resurrected
From the fields of ice and snow
Still, within life’s wheeling, dealing
Give and taking high and low
Like a spool of string unrav'ling
Seamless seasons come and go
Still, amidst the grieving-leaving
-letting go; love’s
sweetest pain
Tireless, time’s hand is weaving
That which cannot be again
Still, like May-green’s subtle weaning
Still, like roses in June’s smile
Still, like ending’s new beginning
Spills the willingness of While
Still, above it all the Giver
Of life’s ever-ebbing vim
Draws each arrow from His quiver
Surely, surely back to Him
©Janet Martin
