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Friday, February 17, 2023

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.












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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!