Blowing Winds of Time

Seasons March

 

Winds blow and leaves turn,

take on dying colors,

go dry and burn

Billowing up into the sky,

clouds that dissipate and die

Then comes the cold,

relentless until winter gets old

Time goes by

and soon enough spring is back.

Time is blowing on the wind.

 

Year after year;

spring blows in,

bringing summer storms,

and falling rain

then winter again.

 

Change Marches

 

And time waits for no-one.

So a young man has fun, and soon enough a son;

And the winds blow, and go where they go;

And they bring love, and hate, tears and fate;

And soon enough an old man goes walking hand in hand;

With other old people;

With a father he barely can understand,

except that he’s been there too.

 

So the spring leaves return until they fall

And the snow buries all in an innocent blanket

And we walk by the walls, and say hi to our friends;

We are all like the leaves and the rain

Except that we number our loved ones

with names and stones, tears and pain.

 

Father and son a long march down the road;

Each thinning in his own time, each failing in turn

vanishing like a dream, Sons, fathers survive and move on

leaving markers by the road for the fallen.

We walk together with no hope of eternity

Beyond handing off a baton;

Not really enjoying the moment the baton gets handed on.

Praying our children and our children’s children do better than we did;

But knowing that in the end,

We are like clouds going by.

 

Daisy in the Rain

 

I plant a daisy in the rain

Thinking of fathers, grandfathers,

their fathers and their father’s fathers;

What must it have been like?

What secrets could they tell me?

What troubles did they bear?

What feats they dare?

Do they sleep in peace at last?

 

I look up at the sky

And watch the clouds walk by;

Whispers in my imagination

And their voices live in my heart.

 

Chris

By Christopher Hartly Holte

June 17, 2012 · Silver Spring ·

The Question

and will there be sons and daughters?

Will the baton be there to hand on?

Will we endure, survive, thrive and learn?

Will we ever learn, to live in peace?