Thursday, June 30, 2016

Thursday Thoughts on Things Time Cannot Change

Time cannot always change
Those things we wish it could
Perhaps it leaves bits of regret
To work for our good


Some view Past as a grave stone-cold
That nothing can exhume
While others simply see it as
Fond memory’s living-room


The future, none can tell
The Past is set in stone
The only thing worth anything
Is Now before it’s gone


Time changes everything given time
But it can never change
One day gone by yet day by day
Things change…now ain’t that strange?


Farewell June, hello July
My, how summer hours fly
Soon we will return to sigh
Farewell, farewell, sweet July


Sometimes, quite foolishly we wish
For something that is not
Then, while we wish, how sad is this;
We miss the thing we’ve got


Time is quite the trickster, oh,
Though it wears no disguise
Invisible, it steals the show
Before our very eyes


There will always be more questions
Than we have answers for
God loves to keep us guessing, if
Only to trust Him more



June dissolved in a blaze of glory!

At The Close of June...

 I took a June farewell tour about the yard this morning...

Now summer’s primal flower fades
First green relents to golds and jades
To deeps of dust spring's lure is tossed
Still, nothing in nature is lost
Both tomb and womb, earth cradles Yore
Until Time wills its bloom once more

Soon we forget, for Time is such
Renewing joy beneath its touch
Where one tie binds, another breaks
And sets soft mists on summer lakes
And whets the appetite for tea
Set to the backdrop of blue sea

The loom that weaves Future to past
Grieves and delights earth’s rebel cast
For sight is such a hungry beast
And nature is an endless feast
Thus, though we mourn ‘the passing of’
We find fresh wonderment to love

© Janet Martin

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

To Our What Is...

What is, is all we have
What was and what will be
Are like horizon-lines and graves
Fruitless futility

What is, is worth our best
What is, is soon what was
As what will be, becomes what is
This sequence does not pause

Therefore, to our What Is
We should commit because
Who knows what What Is waits to be
When this what is, is Was

© Janet Martin

Lessons from the Birds

Like the lark
That fills the dark with song
Or the robin
That sings on a day, rainy-blue
Or the hummingbird
That drinks deep the nectar of life
Ah, we should try to live thus too

© Janet Martin

This antique-jar hummingbird feeder was gifted to me by some dear friends for my birthday a few weeks ago!
Thank-you, gals.
Your gift is appreciated by bird and bird-watcher:)


Today marks the last day of school for Ontario's elementary students, and suddenly I heard the drone of locusts in willow arches overhead where my long-ago summer-girl days disappeared... 

How large the summer days of childhood sprawled
Beneath bare feet its carefree pathways fell
Toward the future where a daydream called
And lured us from the brook and daisy-dell
Into that yonder due of no return
Where days seem bent on departure too soon
And every now and then we pause to yearn
For childhood’s swiftly-severed Brigadoon
Where, long and lean dusk’s shadows of farewell
Climb to, then through the place where echoes swell

How small the leap from there to here to there
It is hard to prepare for the unknown
Pity the one who has no time to stare
But pants headlong toward a cold gravestone
Though the rebirth of ancient summer charms
Abides; A rose is still a rose, oh my,
And in time’s daily death twilight disarms
With gold and draws its gate across the sky
Familiar panoramas disappear
Into the Brigadoon of Yester-year

We stand upon the centerpiece of life
Tomorrow, yesterday, ah, what are they
But chimerical, historical strife
Time’s most valuable asset is Today
And it will never come to pass again
This spending place of moments tries our hearts
With pieces of a picture, pleasure, pain
Like summer’s day, drops petals then departs
While we master the art of living well
And return to the brook and daisy-dell

© Janet Martin