Farewell's Shadowlands

Oh, the undeterred momentum of moments no one can fazeIt sparkles through our bearing to a world of yesterdaysIt vexes rhyme-dazed poets and Duty's proprietorsAs it hastens new morning through noon and dusk's gaping doorsWhere, in the wake of choices that we make in its brief chase/graceRemains the part that never stays yet no one can erase... The above ditty was suddenly inspired from part of a conversation with Hubby this morning, who calledin the beginning/middle of the poem below,begun after starting the fire, morning devotionsbetween putting supper in the crockpot,filling empty bird feeders,answering messages, texts and emails,and other sundry domestic dues, while trying not to panic as I gaped at the clock that boldly declaredthat the topic I began writing about(daybreak's hello) in the waking hues of todayhas long since ceased to be...already part of farewell's shadowland!but, in the afore mentioned conversation Hubby asked me if I ever think of everythingI could accomplish if I didn't write.I guess none of us can see the hidden 'scale' within, where we weigh (hopefully) the eternal value of how we fillfleeting moments!Oh, how often I am torn between lyrical cadenceand domestic prudence 😔😅 ...because what we do is so briefyet so eternal! Dawn, like an unplumbed well of inkUnstoppers gold-gray, blue and pinkThe tranquil tides of night soft-waneUnveiling berths of mirth and painBeneath the tolling of a bellUnfurling shadows of farewell The halo of hello is briefHarbinger of pleasure and griefLike ripples of a pebble tossedDawn disappears; its advent lostIn hues and dues that rose then fellTo fuel shadows of farewell How subtle spills life’s epitaphA world where echoes weep and laughComposed from the momentous surgeWhere daybreak and hello soon mergeLike melted mist, intangibleWith long, deep shadows of farewell Present, where past and future meetBeckons reckonings, bittersweetHow careful-prayerful we should weighThink-ink, that fuels do-and-saySoft spilling from our lips and handsTo dwell in farewell's shadowlands © Janet Martin Ps. 121 I will lift up my eyes to the hills—From whence comes my help?2 My help comes from the Lord,Who made heaven and earth. 3 He will not allow your foot to []be moved;He who keeps you will not slumber.4 Behold, He who keeps IsraelShall neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The Lord is your []keeper;The Lord is your shade at your right hand.6 The sun shall not strike you by day,Nor the moon by night. 7 The Lord shall []preserve you from all evil;He shall preserve your soul.8 The Lord shall preserve[] your going out and your coming inFrom this time forth, and even forevermore. -Jim Reeves