To Thereandon
Softly I fall
Under the spell of Spring
My lips recall
My tasting of the morn
Each day I work
Recalling what could really be too far to reach
In time to see the dawn
My back is warm
E’er I could feel a soaking rain, and as bees swarm
Neath brighter longer days do yet I see
The way that time sneaks quietly by
How could I know life ties itself to thee
I rest my back against a young and helpful tree
Victor of wars I hardly knew I waged
I roll the dice of Lady Fate and dream of what could be
Not knowing where this road is going to end
God knows I pray to gain the sight and rise again begun
So must we all travail
Each day is new
As rises yet the life persuasive sea
So goes the time in rhythm with the tides
Yet swiftly too
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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