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Life in a Jar
Life in a Jar
I’d like to find a special jar
To put aside some life,
A jar that keeps both face and form,
And stints the scourge of change.
I’d put therein, a rusted leaf,
Or summer’s one perhaps,
To always have the seasons at
The twisting of a wrist.
I’d put therein, my true love’s kiss,
To always know its taste.
And next to that a snapshot of
The world within her eyes.
I’d also save, encased therein,
First cries out to the world;
Of lives conceived through gifted love,
And feeling newly born.
I’d store away the vistas of
Grand aspects, earthly borne,
And let them burn through fired glass
From every lay of land.
Then I would not be far from life,
From where I cannot see.
No, I prefer to keep it fresh
For morning’s light, through glass.
It’s change that writes the script of life
And fleshes out the page.
While time is just a numbered pause
Without a story told.
Copyright ©
Robert Waltrip
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