The Sting of Eternity

The sting of eternity
lies in the dusty drawers of
another year gone.

Subtracting all the blazing balls
that fall into the cold blue sea, marking
the sting of eternity.

Harried housewives hurry
scraping their zest into a bowl,
another year gone.

They leave behind the dried rind
of months and days,
the sting of eternity.

Some spurn life’s yeast, fail
to rise; bake flat and hollow;
another year gone.

The Cat’s in the Cradle
singing to the ignorant about
the sting of eternity;
another year gone.

Written using the word’s in this week’s wordle.

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The Day Spills Open…

The day spills open like a gift unwrapped.
Silence is filled with a bird call chorus.
Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.
Stand in the meadow with me — closer dear,
Breathe in the piney scent of the forest.
The day spills open like a gift unwrapped.
The pale blue sky, cloudless and clear
Is brushed at the edges with rose and rust.
Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.
Hold your heart wide open without any fear.
Feel it beat calmly, with joy and with trust.
The day spills open like a gift unwrapped.
There will be time, later, to leap like a deer.
Stand quietly now, don’t make a fuss.
Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.
The sun kisses dewy grass, erasing its tears.
Drink in the stillness — this moment for us.
The day spills open like a gift unwrapped,
Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.