The arbor in my garden often frames the perfection
of a child's face peeking through...
and giggling 'peek-a-boo'!
...the arbour in my heart does too!
What Wonder-wild will today bring?
Nobody knows!
Many, LORD my God, are the wonders you have done,
the things you planned
for us.
None can compare with you;
were I to speak and tell of your
deeds,
they would be too many to declare.
Psalm 40:5
On eastward ledge earth’s edges fringe fresh disappointment and delight
Dawn’s door, upon a soundless hinge swings wide and melts the dark of night
With what seemed so sound as a child; the tidy tick and tock of time
Unraveling the wonder-wild with brooks and blocks and nursery rhyme
This forward flight of morn to night soon seals The Reel, innocence-kissed
The childhood years no child reveres slips from them like a robe of mist
Those hands that pull the wool from eyes and tug us from our toil to play
Soon tuck the tulle of hugs and sighs around a world of Yesterday
…born of today; the glance that skims and dances through our touch with ease
And bears upon its beckoning a reckoning of memories
Where here and now, so very ordinary as it comes and goes
Is like the ink we use to write the stories that our lives compose
Wonder and woe, so interwoven we cannot will them apart
Are like a vine; tender-tough tendrils entwined round and through the heart
A tapestry that holds a sea of seasons softly swallowed up
Where day-to-day adds to the salt-starred roar of oceans in its cup
…on eastward ledge earth’s edges fringe the essence of a wave that rolls
From Mercy’s charge through mortal barge hinged to the Keeper of our Souls
Where all we face is by His grace and therefore we are brave enough
For disappointment and delight, the tangled residue of love
Where we, the children of a Dad who does not falter in His gaze
Will always vex us with the perfect order of His higher ways
Then pray we never lose The Sense of Something Precious Running Rife
Unraveling the wonder-wild of ink that inches into Life
© Janet Martin
Psalm 40:5
On eastward ledge earth’s edges fringe fresh disappointment and delight
Dawn’s door, upon a soundless hinge swings wide and melts the dark of night
With what seemed so sound as a child; the tidy tick and tock of time
Unraveling the wonder-wild with brooks and blocks and nursery rhyme
This forward flight of morn to night soon seals The Reel, innocence-kissed
The childhood years no child reveres slips from them like a robe of mist
Those hands that pull the wool from eyes and tug us from our toil to play
Soon tuck the tulle of hugs and sighs around a world of Yesterday
…born of today; the glance that skims and dances through our touch with ease
And bears upon its beckoning a reckoning of memories
Where here and now, so very ordinary as it comes and goes
Is like the ink we use to write the stories that our lives compose
Wonder and woe, so interwoven we cannot will them apart
Are like a vine; tender-tough tendrils entwined round and through the heart
A tapestry that holds a sea of seasons softly swallowed up
Where day-to-day adds to the salt-starred roar of oceans in its cup
…on eastward ledge earth’s edges fringe the essence of a wave that rolls
From Mercy’s charge through mortal barge hinged to the Keeper of our Souls
Where all we face is by His grace and therefore we are brave enough
For disappointment and delight, the tangled residue of love
Where we, the children of a Dad who does not falter in His gaze
Will always vex us with the perfect order of His higher ways
Then pray we never lose The Sense of Something Precious Running Rife
Unraveling the wonder-wild of ink that inches into Life
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!