Permanence

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fill my cup of dreams, with symbols

Majestic, with faces adoring and vivid

There is no permanence here to etch

The lyrics of a life well or poorly lived

It does not matter, the simple judgments

They dissolve, so then what does it

Truly matter? What we thought or felt?

What matters is only what we did

Who we were, for the growth of short years

The bright morality that left her

In the peak of our finest hours

Which could those have been?

Fill my cup of dreams, with a language

Of laughter and encouraging friends

There is no permanence in these

Only the well-wishing of falling maple leaves

Of the grass growing too long in summer months

In the familiar fragrance of community

How weary to stand beside a streadfast pine

There is no permanence in these

In time’s cool and timeless greens

There is only change, never glory.

 

Reviews

[Alan L Boles]

Beautifully penned, excellent descriptions and depictions.