All These Dear Things
Of all things that could be retained,
tangible and to be seen,
of all that is felt and unfeigned,
would we pluck and sort and glean?
Can we hold onto the breeze,
wafting past us, touching skin,
rustling the leaves of trees,
responding of the soul within?
Colors of the flowers bright,
charming lift and light of smile,
clear cut gleam of stars at night,
home, when sensed in that last mile.
Would be glossy fur of pet,
purring, cuddly, haughty airs?
Soft drops on my face, and wet,
when the sun's heat over bears?
All around us and within,
objects dear and sky above,
what would we hold, much loved kin?
That which is forever, love.
All, God-given, on the earth,
we have not the power to hold.
through our life and from our birth.
What can't be ended, love, the gold.
©03/02/2016 Carol Welch
|