Monday, February 26, 2018

Back To God...from a Poet's Pen-sieve Gaze

Four-season spread; north-south, west-east
Earth’s table groans with beauty’s feast  
Where poets gaze and pen their laud
In humble praises back to God

God’s grant of days is like a song
That never plays the same tune long
Where poets siphon from its rhythm  
Their grateful tributes back to Him

The lilting layout of the sky
Evokes awe’s utter ‘my, oh my’
Where poets grapple with the ache
That pen and ink alone can break

The berth that cups the flower-tide
Beneath earth’s forlorn countryside
Is like a depth of whispers stirred
Waiting to shape breath into word

…where poets linger to employ
Life’s syllables of sorrow-joy
And cull from manuscripts of sod
Their thankful worship back to God

© Janet Martin

 This is what the Lord says:

“Heaven is my throne,
    and the earth is my footstool.
Where is the house you will build for me?
    Where will my resting place be? 
 Has not my hand made all these things,
    and so they came into being?”
declares the Lord.
“These are the ones I look on with favor:
    those who are humble and contrite in spirit,
    and who tremble at my word.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed by the visit! I welcome and appreciate, if thought you care to speak; the value and the input of compliment or critique