Change nurtures
The shades and folds of kindly harmonies
Where a full tapestry makes port,
Woven from the quiet rituals of shared days.
But time, being the master of all change,
In every living thing,
In its own time
Wrenches a baleful sound,
Intrudes on innocence,
Darkening what comes after.
Scoured of every comfort,
The empty lands of the heart
Flinch.
Life’s passing has declared an untimely triumph
Over nature’s season-end.
Reflection sets in – a bitter servant –
Tormenting the dulling beat of all lament.
The shriven soul hesitates,
Barely releasing its grip
On the cold whisper of the sobbing, heaving scythe.
Heavy harvest drips melancholy
Into the restless, grieving soil
Where a seed lingers,
Cradling the memory of precious moments,
Weaving the promise of new harmonies
Through the waiting lands of a still open heart.
Copyright Shelagh Gardiner 2008
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