Thursday, November 5, 2020

November Dawn Ballad

 


Psalm 59:16
But I will sing of Your strength and proclaim Your loving devotion in the morning. 
For You are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.

This is kind of a companion-poem to last night's November Dusk Aria




I leave the windows open for a little to breathe in 
A brittle postlude performed on November’s violin 
It plays the harvest-stubble and the almost-barren limb 
And fills this world of trouble with a Hallelujah Hymn 

Day breaks; a lake of pink and purple bleeds across the sky 
Where not so very long before it wore dusk’s lullaby 
Beneath the brooding keep of Love misunderstood, once more 
Through nuclear flues of starry deep Goodness and Mercy pour 

The landscape splays it naked shape before our gaping eyes 
The cape that draped its crooks and curves in scattered tatters lies 
As summer’s former glory bears the script Of Mice and Men 
Driving home Time’s Old Story we were told, much younger then 

November is a ballad played on stages bloom bereft 
Its melody engages audiences, right and left 
It awes us with the aftermath of flowered paths and such 
And causes us to trust anew The Kind Composer’s Touch 

© Janet Martin






 

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