Pass This Way But Once
There is a family on the farm
over the hill;
Four girls there are, and each
was eleven but once.
-- This, was the youngest's eleventh.
Winter was old and mild,
but spring, almost too young to know;
Evening it was, with light dusting snow,
and the barn was a miracle below.
-- Spring, to sheep bring lambs.
Warm light there streamed,
out through the low barn window;
One pane missing,
with sound coming through.
-- The girl in red, sheep in soft white,
little lambs and a cat nose-to-nose.
Outside I was, but looking in,
like a glass it drew my memories
(As if I were but eleven again!)
What's this, how can it be,
That she and I can see this way?
-- And the winter wind softly blows.
The mild wind whispered:
'Be not surprised,
for you neither know where I come or go,
but One there is Who purposes so.'
Yet it is, that we pass this way but once,
and in that once, we have changed.
-- The lambs are now sheep...some have gone.