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Tuesday, December 12, 2023

More than It (December Dawn) Seems...


This morning kicked off its tick-tock shaped sun-kissed socks and shoes
before I was able to complete the poem 
that burst into wanting-to-be shortly after waking...

The beauty of meditation 
and the duty of obligation
 always com/posing stiff competition!

Sometimes a poem culminates best 
not pressed/suppressed by sheer determination
but by releasing its fragments until they return
in whispers begging to be penned.
So it was today...
I began dipping chocolate bars and maybe because my
fingertips were chocolatey and my mind at ease
lines teased and flickered,  begging me to wash my hands
and capture them before they waft irretrievably away 😂🙏

On Saturday's post I forgot to flip over the recipe card 
for homemade Chocolate Bars, to show dipping instructions.
I am sharing the dipping instructions instead,  from Jim's (husbands') aunt.
(who makes perfect chocolate bars every Christmas)
Melt your preferred variety of chocolate (I used semi-sweet blocks)
over LOW heat. 
(put water in a pot and set another pot on top and let  the chocolate melt at 
around 3 or 4 temperature on the burner.)
(add a bit of shortening or Paro-wax for glossier finish.)


Dip and cool!


This morning showcased a most welcome sunrise after a stretch of unsunny dawns!


Dawn seems to wear a prayer-like solemnity where new mercies spill
As heavens pale and lift the veil that yester-dusk lowered until
We couldn’t see December’s close-cropped lea, the dark and leafless copse
Etched in stark magnificence against brilliant, westerly backdrops
That dimmed and disappeared; earth’s tiered sweeps shrouded by a sea
That drew away Today laden with ample opportunity

Dawn seems to sing! Every morning the old is reborn and made new
As mercy grants rekindled chance to learn to love as we ought to
Humbly aware of He who cares and helps us bear our shares of Must
Before we pass through that last door of Soul-to-God and dust to dust
And thus, because life is precious and Time a Very Fleeting Flow’r
Dawn seems to wake an urgent ache to make the most of every hour

….each moment rife with unlived life becoming lived; the untouched, touched
And often we forget what we beget as dawn is crudely crushed
By hands and feet; demands compete and how we meet them will become
Without disguise, the ink that dries in a Book tabling each day’s sum
While ticking clocks keep kicking off the shoes and socks at dawn reborn
And sometimes we are prone to see nothing at all but 'morn-to-morn'

…and often dawn seems here and gone without a second thought or prayer
A gift from God we barely nod at as it drifts, not to thin air
But to a page, where age to age is recording daily reply
Its telling proof spelling the truth that will be futile to deny
Then, pray that want may be subdued by gratitude as mercy streams
Renewed; where dawn is like a glimpse of Heaven bursting at its seams

© Janet Martin

And, let we forget!!!
As true now as in the days of Jeremiah's lament...

Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are
 new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.
 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“Therefore I hope in Him!”
Lam.3:22-24











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