Life-song

Life; fraught with ‘would’ and ‘should’ and such

It startles hearts and eyes

As seasons shift beneath the touch

Of sunset and sunrise

Life; its land flows with highs and lows

And all scopes in between

Subtle, its 'oh' of open-close

What-is to what-has-been

Life; teacher, preacher, patriarch

Giver, taker of youth

Its language of daylight to dark

Interprets timeless truth

The wise, dumbfounded by its flit

As memories take shape

The dumb, wizened at length by it

Ah, there is no escape

Life; like a leap of love and learn

And ‘what must be will be’

Where no one knows when it will turn

Into eternity

© Janet Martin

 Here in the Martin household life has become beautifully busier in gramma-hood:)

I empathize with Beth Powning's thoughts as she looked at her baby boy; I, at my grandson...

 Hallelujah, hallelujah, the Giver of life is faithful to and through its end

Every good and perfect gift is from above, 

coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, 

who does not change like shifting shadows.

James 1:17

Before the Ballad of Bloom...

The wand that wakes buds is wafting

Over rill and main

Soon the song that sleeps, my darling

Will spill free again

Soon rain-silver notes soft-splashing

Will bring blooming bow’rs

Soon spring’s hidden hymns, my darling

Will wing into flow’rs

Time, for all its testing manner

Never tires earth

Where it lays a lifeless banner

It will sire birth

Like the rush of broken rivers

From ice-fetters freed

Beneath us an ocean quivers

Held, as yet, in seed

© Janet Martin

On Our Way...

Good Morning and Happy officially-Spring!

To sun-kissed hills

With daffodils

To green mist-mantled trees

To blossom hymns

On bursting limbs

And honey-scented breeze

To pansy-pomp

And tulip romp

To seedling-studded slope

To lilac-lanes

And silk-soft rains

Where wishing turns to hope

 

To golden swaths

And Luna moths

To long lean-shadowed dusk

To unearthed trails

Through back-wood vales

Heady with wild-mint musk

To blue-belled nook

And refilled brook

To velvet-vesper tune

To wicks that hold

Marsh-marigold

Like candlelight at noon

To dew-gemmed dawn

And blue-hemmed Yon

To lark-song before day

To summer’s dock

Spring springs the lock

And we are on our way

© Janet Martin

Season-love...

'You often say that', laughed Victoria,

 and I realized I do, as I commented how glad I am we live in a place of seasons…

The window-scape flaunts feathered capes

Then haunts of raving green

Then sultry,singing summer days

Then autumn’s rainbow scene

The wind that weans lush, leafy trees

And cloaks gleaned fields in white

Returns at length with bonny breeze

And blossom-stoked delight

The purple mist of summer slips

To autumnal repose

To fields and fences diamond-dipped

To buds that break in rose

© Janet Martin

Of Holds

 Thank-you Lord, for common toil's backdrop...

After a few months of mostly gray mornings we re-appreciate time's gate of universal gold...

The backdrop of life’s toil and spoil

Is metered, gold with gray

The fabric of earth’s season-glove

Oft steals our breath away

This hope-filled haze that metes out days

Of wonderment and woe

Bolsters love’s ache of give and take

…hold precedes letting go

We hold the dream that holds the gleam

That folds from Whence to Thence

We hold the child before Want’s wild

Wind echoes recompense

We hold the thought that turns to ought

That turns to word and deed

We hold the root that holds the fruit

That holds another seed

We hold the tool that tries the fool

But hones the wise man’s goal

We hold the frame that holds the flame

Of the eternal soul

We hold the day where gold and gray

When its fortune is spilled

Returns to ash beneath the dash

And splash of footsteps stilled

© Janet Martin