Of Wizened Ways...and Innocence

 

"I love it!' squealed the Little One

as she delighted in our weedy, flowery lawn...

...where, pray we never get too 'wise'

To see the world through little eyes

Or ever get too old to reach

For lessons only children teach...

We rise and take our place once more

Where morning breaks and seasons pour

The ink of poetry and such

Before our eyes, beneath our touch

…to steal our breath and test faith’s ‘yes’

Of heartache riddled happiness

Where 'nothing new under the sun'

Vexes a new generation

…and stuns us with the wizened way

Of whispers weaving yesterday

Of cares and prayers oft intertwined

Of ultimatums, God-designed

…where, by the granting of His grace

In the crook of mercy’s embrace

We take our place to do our bit

To honor the Giver of it

…where morning breaks through darksome bars

And rends night’s noose dazzled with stars

The heavens like a bud that spills

A garden above fields and hills

…where innocence and Wizened Way

Compose a baffling interplay

Where roles of teacher-student switch

Until we don’t know which is which

...where, pray we never get too 'wise/wizened'

To see the world through little eyes

Or ever get too old to reach

For lessons only children teach  

© Janet Martin

a little like a bud that spills...

a garden above fields and hills...

Psalm 100:2-5

Worship the Lord with gladness;

come before him with joyful songs.

3 Know that the Lord is God.

It is he who made us, and we are his[a];

we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving

and his courts with praise;

give thanks to him and praise his name.

5 For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

his faithfulness continues through all generations.