Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Of Scribbles and Such



 Photo

These lines we scribble in life’s dirt
May seem quite insignificant
A transient script of smile and hurt
Across earth’s blue-dot element
An employment of joy and strife
Inscribing chapters of a life

These lines we scrawl in moment-ink
When segregated, may seem trite
A repetition twixt dawn-pink
And velvet vesper-sigh of night
Yet time does not sever its text
Each murmur melding to the next

Our folly-foibles need Love’s grace
For this is not fictitious sod
Of hope and heart-ache’s mute embrace
This is our love-story to God
As tear and sweat-drops spill and spell
Those things we think we do not tell

The subtle imprint of our thoughts
May seem invisible and small
A gathering of jumbled jots
And unintelligible scrawl
But we should pay close, cautious heed
For what we write Someone will read

© Janet Martin


 So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God. Rom. 14:12

This morning as I swung my feet over the side of my bed I caught myself thinking ...here we go again, same old, same old ...you know, the 'lunches-laundry-living-loving:) Nothing glamorous but still important! Gently I felt an inner chiding, 'This is no 'same-old'. This day has never passed and will never pass again.Yes, but by the goodness of God we go...Lord, guide our quill.



2 comments:

  1. that's true...I'm so upset. Canyons missing...we don't know what happened,,,

    ReplyDelete
  2. oh dear! I hope you find him. Hugs(())

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!