The Wonderworld of 'Will' or The Best of 'This'

Oh, the wonders of tomorrow...Little grand-daughter sighed with ecstasy  as she relived a euphoric plethora of summer memories while peering through winter's window...toward spring! Tomorrow will soon be today's challenges and joysTomorrow will soon steal today's girls and boysTomorrow will change (for better or worse) what Today still isTomorrow is a world away; let's make the best of This 'Grandma, why did you tape the door shut?', questioned grand-daughter the other day."Because it's not very tight", I replied "and we need to keep the shivery wind outside!But, one warm, wonderful sunny day Gramma will take the tape off!We will open the door and set the rocking chair and flowers back on the deck and have tea out thereand read books and have campfire suppers! Won't that be a happy day?!!"And grand-daughters eyes sparkled with heaven-like anticipation as she sighed,'ye-e-eth!! and aunty Mel will be here too, right?'' Oh, I hope so,' was all gramma could promise😅💖 I've always believed anticipation is one of life's purest pleasures,but let's not miss what is while we dream, right?! Someday porch flowerpots will brim with pretty petal-plumesThe wooly-white woodland will ring with reawakened tunesThe meadow will be like a green-spun picnic blanket spreadBeneath a canopy of sun-kissed blue skies overhead The barren branch will burgeon with hues of replenished shadeThe gale will gentle its halloos into a serenadeRaindrop-waltzes will wash the world and rouse earth from its sleepAnd windows will not frame counterpanes unfurled, white and deep New beginnings will flower and blossoms will deck the grassDreamland’s barred gate will lower and beckon us to trespassThe quiet interlude between harvest and Planting MustWill turn into a bustling scene of machine-startled dust The clock will feast on a buffet of quickened hour-chimeHearthside evenings borne away until next winter-timeAnd we will taste spring’s cheeriness that waits within our thoughtAnd we will wear the weariness we had somehow forgot And we will wonder at the way each season swiftly spillsWhile hunger scavenges hope’s tray that each new day refillsAnd we will bow our head in thanks to mortal’s gracious GodWhere we will soon join silenced ranks in earth’s grave-stippled sod The wonderworld of 'will' is filled with what yet waits to beWith tears and laughter not yet spilled into a memoryBut, lest we miss the best of This that will fill yesteryearsLet's make the most of what yet is before it disappears © Janet Martin By the sweat of your brow you will eat your bread, until you return to the ground--because out of it were you taken. For dust you are, and to dust you shall return." Eccles.12:7Then the dust will return to the earth as it was, And the spirit will return to God who gave it.