Time’s survival fete
To remain clothed and fed
Bears on its ancient dust-born street
New prayers for daily bread
Good morning’s beaming wreath
Unfolds, then folds above
A back-drop to the prayers we breathe
For provision and love
Then, as we plant the soil
Where seed and trusting meet
We return to faith’s hope and toil
In time’s survival fete
For time’s survival fete
Though more than meat and bread
Demands the work of hands and feet
To remain clothed and fed
© Janet Martin
As I buttered bread for school-lunches(for the ump-umpteenth time!:) and watched the farmer's hasting by with tractors in the return of planting season, I thought of how life really is an endless fete for survival; repetition of the same chores and duties over and over to remain clothed and fed.
We do our part and trust God for the rest!
Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my
unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be
removed," says the LORD, who has compassion on you. Isa.54:10
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!