The Repenting Shore

Horizon
O fragrant Spring’s unfurling leaves
Holding fast to father’s sleeves
Mother’s safe and loving eyes
Me a child instinctive cries.

And of this Spring, fresh and new.
Childish steps unsteady, untrue.
I walk upon childish whim –
Changing paths – green grass to dismally grim.

It was a time of youth and innocence
Not time yet for recompense.
Ah – the serpentine trail to discovery charms!
Cheeks of rose in father’s arms…

O sultry Summer bearing down
Long days filled with smiles and frowns
Never enough to satisfy me
Surely answers found intellectually.

And what meaning of this searching ask shall I,
‘Tis filling a soul with whimsical cry.
Always a corner to look around,
Horizon, sunset, happiness found.

Lengthy rows of days arrive.
The cool grass and petals survive.
But alas Summer shall find it’s end,
Troubling days which my soul must fend.

O cooling Autumn steals the day.
Barely saw coming your artful sway.
Leaves turn red, yellow, dry…
Thought I heard a warning cry.

So, lightly I tread, survival at best.
Surely now I could use some rest.
And what of these shorter days?
Why can’t I return to my old ways?

All my life now turning gold,
Once never afraid of growing old.
Yet signs of disaster beginning to show,
With ashen cheeks, more weary I grow.

O morbid Winter, cold and stark.
Leaves me shivering in the dark.
All that filled me with blissful glee
Seems to presently evade my plea.

And what of these empty pleas?
What I need has long passed these.
I hurt inside, hoarfrost stings.
Why must I walk through these sorts of things.

So, tears fall upon my snowy way;
But eyes soon open to a distant Light’s ray.
For there God stands! He already knows my soul,
Cheeks now pure white – stinging frost to grassy knoll.

O fragrant Spring unfurling leaves –
Life once filled but rife with thieves.
Now holding fast to Father’s path.
Life is elation, joyous, scorned past’s wrath.

And what of this new-found day?
Graceful rebirth, all tears washed away.
Purpose pours into my heart
Along with Love – a perfecting start.

It is a time of youth once more
I cling to the repenting shore.
And away fades all those worldly charms.
Cheeks of rose in Father’s arms…

rick

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