Here we are again, almost at the close of another year which opens into
Something almost surreal sounding...2020!!
Looking into the future feels a little like this morning
as we peer into the fog but can't see very far at all!
Like burrs that cling and sting a bit
Like blurs of heatwave chilled
Or eyes that water from the grit
Of dust kicked up and stilled
Like havoc wreaked by light and dark
As rise and set of sun
Vexes the vessels that embark
…destinies yet unknown
Like laugh lines on the phantom face
Of dear old Father Time
Beholding generations chase
Dreams like a rolling dime
Like a big jigsaw puzzle but
Each piece a bit too wide
Like doors that swing open and shut
With morn and eventide
Or like high-rises made of sand
Pleasing to sight and such
But then unable to withstand
The winds and waves of touch
Like graves that gape beneath a sod
Engraved with need and greed
Where feet still dance and hands applaud
And hope scatters its seed
Like pioneers that blaze a trail
Through Unknown’s testing toll
While Mercy tips the sacred scale
That strips all but the Soul
Like dewdrops that sparkle and fade
Like diamonds none can keep
They decorate the whirring blade
That fells the rippling sweep
Like laughter that no longer rings
Save where the heart and mind
Safe-guards would-be-forgotten things
Of living left behind
Where God gifts lilts to you and me
A little like a rhyme
Or fisticuffs of poetry
Wrapped in Something called Time
© Janet Martin
