To be or not to be joyful
To live without fists clenched
Thirst is a Thing full of time’s emptying
Yet never quite fully quenched
To be or not to be hopeful
To live each day without dread
Mindful of this; no matter what, God IS
Thus Hope will never be dead
To be or not to be Thankful
To tally, not what is not
But to be glad for the blessings we have
Keened to Love’s tittle and jot
To be or not to be humble
Pray life-stumbles make us kind
Pray we will prize more than that seen with eyes
Esteemed as loss by the blind
To be or not to be happy
Coveted Fortune, ah, yes
But too often missed because we exist
In search of this; happiness
© Janet Martin
The first stanza in this poem birthed from a wild desire to grasp time's coat-tails and try to slow it down...but I could not.
(our 'baby' turns fifteen today)
Looking back can feel a little like peering into an echo-drenched cup of mist...
The first stanza in this poem birthed from a wild desire to grasp time's coat-tails and try to slow it down...but I could not.
(our 'baby' turns fifteen today)
Looking back can feel a little like peering into an echo-drenched cup of mist...
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!