Happy 2nd Birthday, sweet grand-daughter!
...though without a doubt the celebration is bittersweet this year!
This is not quite the poem I had in mind but
circumstance sort of moved the heart in this direction today!
Details here on
From a fount that forges memory’s fond mementos, mercy-lent
Pours the future to a suture that weaves pictures, echo-bent
Who knows what will flow from heaven to bestow laughter and tears
Where dawn kindles what dusk dwindles until ‘lifetime’ disappears
From the hand of God (no other, lest we confuse hierarchy
And forget the One who numbers days before one came to be)
From His hand, (the fount of mercy) time’s momentous stream runs rife
Until the will of the Giver returns to Himself, each life
Sacred is the surge of seasons, slowly reeling farewell in
Holy is the toll of twilight, siphoning the soul from skin
Precious is each gifted hour, arranged step-by-steppingstone
Faithful is the loving Father drawing his dear children Home
© Janet Martin
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:16
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!