Early Summer
Let me lay my head
upon your lap,
sweet green Earth,
while you are young in the year,
not the shy maiden,
but the young mother, full of promise,
and comfort, and hope,
before the fruits ripen,
and the leaves are still fresh and green.
For a moment,
as I look into the blue of heaven,
let me pretend
that this is forever,
and the days after harvest,
when your hair turns white
with winter’s chill
and summer’s rest,
are yet to touch me.
Soon, soon,
I know it will be my time
to walk amid the falling leaves,
and feel the snow,
and let myself come to final rest
upon your bosom,
for my crone time is upon me,
and the autumn of my life
bids me celebrate
each day, like a fallen leaf
blowing away in the wind.
But for today,
let me be in the now
of early summer,
and when the time comes,
I will take your hand,
and walk into that dark night,
where I am sure
I will be surprised.