Like Glimpses Through a Gate

Psalm 16:11

You will show me the path of life; 

In Your presence is fullness of joy; 

At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

The thrill of February spring was short-lived,

...as was the clean up from previous ice-storms, 

 We woke to a world ensconced in nature's glitz!

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth's happiness, so full of holes...

February is always a struggle for me, poetically-speaking, 

and this February is no exception, so emotionally demanding/draining

 with so much local trouble and sorrow,

not to mention globally!

But hallelujah,

 God Was, Is, and Ever Will Be in perfect control!

We walk by faith, not by sight!

2 Cor.5:7

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth's happiness, so full of holes

Where grief exacts love’s bitter thorn

As dreams are dashed and hearts are torn

…and then the morn heaps hope’s buffet

As mercy’s masterpieces splay

Like glimpses, through a gate ajar

Where everlasting pleasures are

How often our faith could be

Disillusioned by tragedy

This, but part and parcel of Time

Tethered to weathered season-chime

Where rhyme and reason could dismiss

God’s goodness with betrayal’s kiss

Until, like glimpses through a gate

He reminds us of joys that wait

How often we could lose our way

If we relied on logic’s say

Where wise and fool alike concede

Man’s days are few and full of need

But, the best this world can demand

Pales, compared to God’s Promised Land

Glimpsed through a gleaming gate, agape

With impressions of its landscape

How oft the poet’s flound’ring prayer

Could yield to pirates of despair

Where unholy taunt plunders thought

And steals joy with blessings forgot

Until God opens downcast eyes

To impact us with sweet surprise

Unveiled, like glimpses through a gate

Where worship’s endless pleasures wait

How oft life's weight of care could wage

A war that nothing could assuage

Without more than this world can host

Of temporary toast and boast

Hoisted between eternities

A flail of mortal agonies

While glimpses through yon Gate remind

The man of the soul's transient rind 

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth’s happiness, so full of holes

With glimpses of Heavenly Hills

From whence our Help and Comfort spills

To cheer us onward in the flight

Of walking by faith, not by sight

Until Yon Gate eclipses grace

And glimpses become face-to-face

© Janet Martin

Psalm 121:1-3

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

2My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

3He will not allow your foot to [a]be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber.

Lord, I Need You

I Need Thee Every Hour