I Linger For a Reason...

'This is the last time for this', said a girl in my Grade 6 Sunday School class yesterday, slowly running fingers over the back of the chairs around the table. (our summer kid's programs at church are run  a bit differently and in September she will be graduated from the grade 1-6 format) Her sentimentalism tugged at my heart as I replied, 'oh my dear, get used to saying that, because everything in life is but a little season..." This girl also used to be in my childcare so I have an extra-motherly place in my heart for her💖 Yesterday I sent the link below, from ten years ago to my daughters after someone happened across it,reminding me of poems long forgotten....the thoughts still as relevant now as then, just with different 'pictures' attached These two incidences are part of what inspired this poemas well as tugging the tomato cages from peony-past bushes to take to the vegetable garden to tryto squeeze overgrown tomato plants into...(sometimes trying to be thrifty/frugal has its challenges!!) Some gardening-lingering... some supper-lingering some between-task lingering...I linger where the vibrant vistas of first summer sweep I loiter in the arbor draped with mauve wisteria plume... (it was a delicious sunshine and thunderstorm day!!) I linger for a reason, where the flower bower brimsWhere the new day is breaking and where ebbing daylight dimsI linger in the laughter and the chatter of a childBeneath the dappled rafter of leaf-song, wind-tossed and wild I loiter in the arbor draped with mauve wisteria plumeAnd girded with the regal stance of hollyhocks in bloomI linger where the vibrant vistas of first summer sweepAnd at the cradle where the little baby lies asleep I linger where raindrops tap-dance and where the thunder rollsAnd laneway rivers eddy into divots, dips and holesAnd where the colors of the world spin on a carouselOf winter, spring, summer and fall in breath-stealing farewell I linger where the fledgling cheeps and spreads its wings to flyAnd at the window framing scenes that roll beneath the skyAnd in a doorway torn between looking back and aheadCaught off guard by impressions of a life loosed from its thread ...in rooms where echoes waft where noise and messes used to bewhere mother lost her patience with her precious companyafter tripping over shoes left where she now lingers, ohand traces fingers over places primed with letting go I linger where the robin sings and where the finches flitI linger in the garden for the dear, sheer joy of itWhere bare feet dash and flash through green pastures of innocenceInto the rude awakening of choice and recompense I linger, just to love the touch and feel of here and nowTo sense the glove of Father's Time's hand brush across my browI linger for a reason that is ruthless in its artWhere 'everything a season' steals small pieces of my heart Janet Martin I linger where raindrops tap-dance and where the thunder rollsAnd laneway rivers eddy into divots, dips and holes...