Beneath a Rush of Rose and Gold

A glorious spring-like morning 

can't help but rouse a humble tip o' the poet's hat

to the Giver

Wishing/praying God's blessing of joy to you today!

(my extra-special joy comes today in the form

of two little girls who used to be in my childcare!)

Earth’s ridges reappear beneath a rush of rose and gold

Birds warble welcome-hymns of cheer where days to years run bold

From the hand of the Giver like a bud bursting with hope

Like a gleam-giddy river as the snow melts from the slope

Light eddies into nooks and crooks like ocean-surge run wild

It overflows the air like brooks, like laughter of a child

And suddenly, like lambs in spring, faith leaps with joy, reborn

Beneath the rush of mercy’s Wing, the night is turned to morn

© Janet Martin

Acts 17:24-31

The God who made the world and everything in it 

is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. 

25 And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything.

 Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. 

26 From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; 

and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands.

 27 God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, 

though he is not far from any one of us. 

28 ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’[b] 

As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’[c]

29 “Therefore since we are God’s offspring, 

we should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone—

an image made by human design and skill. 

30 In the past God overlooked such ignorance, 

but now he commands all people everywhere to repent. 

31 For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. 

He has given proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead.”