Wheel of time, ever turning,
Slow your pace that I may savour
The chapter you have brought me to —
A time so full and gratifying.
Turn O wheel a trifle slower
Before I pass to another view.
Can’t you hear the children’s chatter
And their baby feet that patter?
With your turning
Comes the changing–
Progress, growth, life’s rearranging.
But hugs and kisses, love and laughter,
Now whirl and flow, swirl me along.
Little prayers of little children
Bless these days of joy and song.
Maybe nothing fearful in your turning,
Yet let me just a moment linger–
A moment more before you turn.
-n- 7 October 1995
(When Prisy was 6, Tim was 4, and Lydia was not quite 3 )
This is Sangeetha here, your old neighbour from AF 94E Shanti Colony. I have been living in Melbourne, Australia for more than four years now. I read your blog from time to time.
This peice is filled with nostalgia, exactly how I have been feling for quite some time as I watch my nephews.neice, students, parents and myself grow older.This subject has been explored by many poets from many cultures as the theme is universal and often poignant as in:
“Sunrise sunset swiftly flow the days…”
( Fiddler on the Roof)
One by one they will go away–
to work, to college,to service,to their own houses.
And then there will be room–
a guest room, a study,
and a sewing room–
just for the two of us.
But it won’t be empty.
Every corner, every room,
every nick in the coffee table
will be crowdedwith memories.
Memories of picnics,parties, Christmases,bedside vigils, summers,fires, winters, going barefoot,
leaving for vacation, cats,conversations, black eyes,graduations, first dates,ball games, arguments,
washing dishes, bicycles,dogs, boat rides,getting home from vacation,meals, rabbits,
and a thousand other thingsthat fill the livesof those who would raise five.
And Peg and Iwill sit quietly by the fireand listen to thelaughter in the walls
(Laughter in the Walls by Bob Benson)
Old John with white hair
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say:
‘Such, such were the joys
When we all, girls and boys,
In our youth-time were seen
On the echoing green.’
(The Echoing Green by William Blake)
There is nothing like poetry to capture our emotions. That is why I consider the Psalms to be one of the most beautiful and comforting books of the Bible.Some chapters contain verses of sorrow,fear, despair, anger and doubt but never fail to end in joy,courage,hope,understanding and faith.
For me there is a strange serenity in remembering the past,appreciating the present and planning for the future.Time is one of the most intriguing aspects of creation.