In Perfect Bloom

Now breaks the bud, now spills a thrilling sheen

From mud and bark-dark berths of earth, as surge

Of things hoped for emerges, virgin-green

Where joy and sorrow-splurges purge and merge

In dirge and celebration on the tongue

For New ever replenishes the old

And whether we are weathered, love, or young

Spring is a Thing of wonder to behold

Now breaks the vault where cold and winter-long

We suffered the return of flower-song

The appetite of midnight brings us dawn

And winter always, always ends in spring

The hurt of life, though hard and heavy on

The heart is oft expedient to bring

Us nearer to the One who holds the thread

Of gray and gold running through blood-bought grace

Thus, ever as Past-Present-Future wed

The fount of moments springs from God’s embrace

To we, at the measure and mercy of

Not merely seasons, but Abysmal Love

Ah look, and tremble at God’s wonder where

The full of it is veiled as yet until

He deems the hour fit to bear or wear

The flower soft unfolding in His will

…now breaks the Bud, now spills the will of spring,

Summer, autumn, winter, four-season’s worth

Until there is no Time left on the string

Extending from His fingers to the earth

Where from the berth of mud and bark-dark womb

The bud breaks forth at last in perfect bloom

© Janet Martin

That house there between the trees is where my neighbor Arnold lives. He is in hospital, weary and totally worn out from his cancer-fight and yesterday his wife told me, oh, pray that he can die in peace...he is so ready for his new body and there comes a time when letting go is kinder than holding on.'
I know they would appreciate our prayers.