Yesterday we had a sister-gathering at our parents which of course brings lots of reliving
(some with pleasure, others with remorse) scenes of seasons spent
Though we cannot unravel what life weaves with days and
years
The high and low we travel in retrospect, reappears
…where loves we did not treasure in the keen, green blip of
youth
Becomes a sacred measure unfolding wisdom and truth
And though we cannot undo with the new, seasons of old
With kinder, gentler gaze we view this Present that we hold
…where places that we were led us toward This Meeker Ken
Where chases of dust stirred makes us more thankful now than
then
The birth and death of daily breadth, while earth its due reclaims
Charters while’s worth, as breath by breath the thread of
Being wanes
And not until we bow to fill more mindful hearts with awe
Will Time a reverence instill for its unyielding law
Then we do not despise The Dance that tempers frantic feet
Or strews before our eyes lost lands of learning,
bittersweet
For, though we cannot undo what life weaves with where we
went
We show more gratitude for budding leaves of Seasons Spent
© Janet Martin
