Things Half Done
Dear Reader,
As I’ve watched autumn color fill our hills and dales, I couldn’t escape feeling the change of seasons, and, if you’ll indulge me, a bit of poetry came into view:
Things Half Done
Cool winds at the door most mornings.
Setting suns in our rearview mirrors in the early eves.
A feeling of things half done, half done.
Orion rises in the early morning. Cygnus departs in the midnight eves.
A feeling of things half done, half done.
Our days shorten, our nights stretch on.
Our memories sharpen, our thoughts live on.
A feeling of things half done, half done.
Our attention turns from the bright effervescent.
To the steady glow of the everlasting flame.
A feeling of things half done, half done.
The last breath of summer softens our middays.
The earth’s gentle turning speaks of things anew.
A feeling of things half done, half done.
Surely there’ll be time a plenty.
Surely there’ll be time to come,
For all the things we meant to.
For all the things half done.