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Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Sacred Similes or Art-Accountability Awareness

Like a vast lake,
blush, blue and gold
unfolding overhead...

...where daybreak, like a threshold to pictures that dusk will seal
Ought first to be a blush-blue-golden altar where we kneel ...


Like canvases to sketch upon, Today is always new...


The art succeeding stretch-and-yawn is up to me and you
Where circumstance is but the scrim we splash with artistry...



Like a vast lake, blush, blue and gold unfolding overhead
Day breaks; and from yon welkin hold dawn’s fledgling wings are spread
Where, young and old alike embark, like a migrating surge
Of souls, pressing toward the mark of eternity’s verge
Where it is not made known to us how far the future splays
Until we tread the exodus of mist-like, numbered days

Like canvases to sketch upon, Today is always new
The art succeeding stretch-and-yawn is up to me and you
Where circumstance is but the scrim we splash with artistry
From mercy-granted trays that brim with opportunity
To sing a hymn, to breathe a prayer, to lend a helping hand
To be kind and humbly aware of time’s trickle of sand

Like a tree softly doffed of leaves, moment-momentum keens
The seed that grows into the sheaves that harvest-season gleans/weans
Like artists poised before pedestals as dawn hoists Today
We brush-daub-lob Originals that appear drawn away
But not forever; someday when our ‘painting-days’ are done
God will be the Appraiser, studying them, one by one

Oho, surely in light of this, there is no Commonplace
Each day is like a holy kiss from God, a gift of grace
Dawn’s debut, as it rends the air, propels eternity
Toward each one of us, bearing Soul’s immortality
Thus, whether young or old, before we start Art of Today
Not one of us should be so bold as to forget to pray

...where daybreak, like a threshold to pictures that dusk will seal
Ought first to be a blush-blue-golden altar where we kneel 
To thank God for His favours and to ask Him to direct
Where many tints and flavours taunt, flaunt, wink and interject
Then, beseech His whisper to wage, where brushstrokes heed command  
So all that remains on the page are imprints of His Hand
   
© Janet Martin

The trees are definitely being 'softly-doffed' today!



Today's post inspired in part by part of my morning Scripture reading...

Jer.17:5-10
This is what the Lord says:
“Cursed is the one who trusts in man,
who draws strength from mere flesh
and whose heart turns away from the Lord.
6 That person will be like a bush in the wastelands;
they will not see prosperity when it comes.
They will dwell in the parched places of the desert,
in a salt land where no one lives.

7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
whose confidence is in him.
8 They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.”

9 The heart is deceitful above all things
and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?

10 “I the Lord search the heart
and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
according to what their deeds deserve.”

Also,
Partly by a line in the book The Irrational Season
by Madeleine L'Engle
"If you were arrested as a Christian, 
would there be enough
evidence against you to convict you?"

...and partly by an immense sense of standing on a fresh canvas of Time,
as I watched the sunrise unfolding

May You ask for and sense God's Hand over yours today!
Happy Painting!

Mine involves a scrub bucket and other
fall-cleaning essentials!
(like good music!)
Like this one!





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