I rake the falling amber leaves
With cascades more to come
But it really isn’t pointless
To cold grass growing numb
The precious warmth of sunlight
Could mean life instead of death
To tender grass that’s growing
In winter’s chilling breath
Shoveling snow from the sidewalk
…another storm on the way
Certainly is not pointless
To the friends who are coming today
Cleaning things that will soil again
Washing what’s been washed before
Pouring grain into an empty bin
Opening again the closing door
Teaching once more the lessons of life
Young ears have heard again & again
The same old stories that Grandpa told
Sometimes with a different spin
Adding more wood to the fires that burn
Knowing the dawn will bring cold
Sweetest slumber while clock dials turn
None are pointless…when the story’s been told
It isn’t pointless; it’s not in vain
Labor that’s done in the spirit of love
Bridges built or foundations lain
When prompted by the one above
David Kettler, 11/29/15
Note: Raking the autumn leaves while more were falling right behind me, I remember thinking how pointless! This poem then started coming to me…no, it’s not pointless!
With cascades more to come
But it really isn’t pointless
To cold grass growing numb
The precious warmth of sunlight
Could mean life instead of death
To tender grass that’s growing
In winter’s chilling breath
Shoveling snow from the sidewalk
…another storm on the way
Certainly is not pointless
To the friends who are coming today
Cleaning things that will soil again
Washing what’s been washed before
Pouring grain into an empty bin
Opening again the closing door
Teaching once more the lessons of life
Young ears have heard again & again
The same old stories that Grandpa told
Sometimes with a different spin
Adding more wood to the fires that burn
Knowing the dawn will bring cold
Sweetest slumber while clock dials turn
None are pointless…when the story’s been told
It isn’t pointless; it’s not in vain
Labor that’s done in the spirit of love
Bridges built or foundations lain
When prompted by the one above
David Kettler, 11/29/15
Note: Raking the autumn leaves while more were falling right behind me, I remember thinking how pointless! This poem then started coming to me…no, it’s not pointless!
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