Thursday, June 23, 2011

Sestina - last draft

Childhood fades to that faraway place
where blue skies framed an endless joyful sun
that warmed the spirit and nurtured growth
of small bodies eager for the living
when laughter tinkled as crystals in the breeze
in an anthem of spontaneous expression.

We seek once more that free expression
that binds us firmly to that place
years pass as candles snuffed by the breeze
clouds moving across the face of the sun;
birthdays part of the mystery of living
notched on door frames in a to measure of our growth.

But would there be excitement at that growth
or a frown overshadow joyous expression
if we saw in advance the truth about living
and understood more about time and place,
would we dance so freely in the sun
if we knew how fleeting was the breeze.

For each life stage passes with the breeze
that feathers every seasons' growth
from winter darkness to summer sun
a metaphor for all expression
as we move to each new place
marking the phases of the living.

And as we celebrate the living
carried forth on endless breeze
be happy in each special place
that mark the milestones of our growth
the changing vista of expression 
beneath the guard of a watchful sun.

For each day we spend beneath the sun
we need take  time to feel the living
for childhood is but a brief expression
of the changing direction of the breeze;
short days and years that count our growth
across the transience of place.

Now I understand my place, under an older sun
each age of growth essential to living
I pass by on the breeze, content in expression.

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For some reason I'm yet to fathom I'm unable to reply to comments left by others so thank you for dropping by and taking the time to read and comment. Merlene