Like Melting Snow Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Though dream's stream ebbs at dawn each day
must this presage its passage void?
If gods there be dreams' interplay
with acts alert may cares avoid.
Thus wave-lengths which submerge our sleep
emerge on waking, help to see
through artifice, beyond veil peep
with clairvoyance, transparency.

When effort meets no just reward
why solace seek in vain regret,
from attic, loft, or cave life's cord
can hang or lifeline form, scene set
for double bind or ladder which
prepares fresh phase from growth within,
those options cause, effect may stitch
discard false creed's imagined sin.

No lies lie in men's hearts to pierce
thin skin and curdle blood in vein,
no pin striped angels, dragons fierce,
hope lies ahead, advance again
towards accomplishments, though hid,
seem close not closed to inner ear,
dark shadow shapes themselves forbid
to see the light approaching near.

Hope may appear a two-edged sword
until the promised land's attained,
yet voyages themselves afford
an opportunity unstained
to meditate on inner goal
avoiding pride before the fall,
retaining strong, consistent, soul
on call for all that may befall.

No need to feed on fears, despair,
no need for doubt though out of luck,
no need for hunter, hunted hare,
when there's thin air from which to pluck
pluck, courage, role-reversing tears
despite years' spin none can subtract
from finite space to trace hope's cheers
before death's magnets worms attract.

Each day seize, sunrise in the east,
Each day flees, sunset in the west,
Each day keys into more from least,
Each day recedes, yet what is 'best'
when light from darkness is reborn
when dark gestates light's cycle ink
when light reminds links may be torn,
when black draws back from curtained brink?

One never knows beyond next bend
what pain or pleasure may await,
'tis more trip's sip than slipping end
which fate prepares before too late
inters his_story six feet deep,
or ashes turns no phoenix knew,
each night dreams challenge doubts as sleep
plays out scene both foreseen and new.

As seven stanzas flow to eight
and eight through eighty could evolve
seeking to understand, translate,
of mice and men existence, solve
woes which today may heavy lay
yet which tomorrow's joy may show,
we'll end this tale, soft steal away
like melting snow, like melting snow.