"In semblance" [sonnet impromptu 2]

Whatever's been entrusted to us is ours
in semblenace   for a certain modest span
the flower feels its flowering for some hours
or days & weeks       it happens from a plan

the seasonal succession's so instructive
& yet   its lessons's endlessly banal
or infinite?     life's anyway   productive
from swaddling cloth to wrapping perishing's pall

we're always wrapped in something!   always wrapt
in watching what unfolds before the view
my thoughts are wandering   yet the words are apt
a little bit?     well   how about with you?

where flows your voice   along the languid scale
of   sa   re   ga   ma   pa   da   ni's   sweet veil?