Farewell, old year!
What a volume to retire
And place on a shelf in the heart
(Though not without tears for the tears it holds)
Hope Immortal cheers us onward
Newness, eager to inspire
Bids us close gently
The Book of
Has Been.
And
ready faith to receive
A volume, fresh and clean.
Tonight, I will reach out my hand
and take it, not with trembling dread and fear
But with trust because the Giver (and Taker)
Is the Lord, and He is always near...
Ps.145:18
The LORD is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He saves the contrite in spirit.
call on Him while He is near.
A Short Reflection First...
(before loosening the poetic rein and
Tossing restraint to the wind)
Quite Enough
What was, is yester-love
What waits, no one can tell
What is, my dear, is quite enough
With which to live life well
What was wafts beyond reach
What waits to be, who knows?
Today grants quite enough to teach
And keep love on its toes
What was, fills Bygone's trove
What waits, no one can see
Today is quite enough, my love
To make a memory
What was, is like spilled ink
What waits, no wish can bind
What is, is quite enough, I think
To keep us humbly kind
Janet Martin
There will be roses to tickle our noses
To soothe the mean sting of love’s thorn
There will be beauty to cheer common duty
Served on a buffet of new morn
Purply-whispered and silvery-glistered
Dells filled with forget-me-not
Moments that thunder with worship-wild wonder
And moments oft lived and forgot
There will be gladness to counter grief’s sadness
Cheering love’s tear-weary wake
There will be sorrows still veiled by tomorrows
Still cradled in hope’s holy ache
There will be flowers and summer-dusk showers
Fine pleasures, like spring’s chuckling brooks
Maple-sweet toffee and cups of fresh coffee
Bird-song, a new ‘favorite book’
There will be kindness and self-centered blindness
Strolls through green, rolling countryside
Precious occasion for sweet celebration
Proud groom and young bride, starry-eyed
Humble submission to dream’s un-fruition
Hairpin sharp, hard-left learning curves
Begging for pardon and tea in the garden
*And Housewife-meets-mouse frazzled nerves
There will be mending of fences and tending
To tasks only noted when missed
Plan-rearranging, and hearts that need changing
Sweet babies-dear, cuddled and kissed
Back-breaking labour and helping our neighbor
Then soaking spent bones in warm suds
Prayer-bent desires and crackling campfires
Marshmallow-s’mores, famine and floods
Lunches with sisters, and blind-dates as Misters
And Misses-es search for soulmates
There will be singing and earth’s belfries ringing
With music only God creates
There will be bruises and ‘emptied oil cruses’
Trust-lessons in the face of need
There will be trouble aboard time’s brief bubble
To test and grow faith’s mustard seed
There will be struggle and pink honeysuckle
Peaches, pears, apples and plums
Twilight’s chin dripping with End of Day slipping
To Past’s un-trespass-able sums
Joyful surprises and coral sunrises
Puppies, both naughty and nice
Farmers that whistle till good humours bristle
At some revised, sky-high jacked price
There will be much care pioneering much prayer
‘Our Father who art in heaven’
Then, there will be peace as we learn to release
The onus of the petition
There will be dead ends, far and near old, new friends
And endless opportunity
And holiest holes in the silk of our souls
By much-missed loved one's memory
There will be fumbles, unflattering stumbles (ugh)
Thanksgiving-humbled supplicants
For no one is able to set repast's table
Without what God’s goodness first grants
There will be winners and warmed over dinners
Because someone had to work late
There will be faux pas and awed hallelujahs
And hot temper fueled debate
There will be bills, and *hearty laughter that spills
Life’s very best of medicine
Many a reason to treasure each season
No matter what season we’re in
There will be losses, and triumphs and crosses
Of ineffable tragedies
Echoes soft-haunting a future found wanting
There will be cricket-symphonies
While mommies and daddies, grampies and grammies
Need wisdom God's word will give
To guide explaining while sacredly training
A child in the way he should live
Midst messes and muddles and big shiny puddles
Luring little feet to its thrills
There will be stories of hardship and glories
All hinged upon ‘if the Lord wills’
© Janet Martin
** the starred lines unfolded during the
composing of this poem...
The first one needs no explanation; 'mouse' says it all!
The second was inspired by my mother who called while I was gathering
this poem and she said something rather cute that struck my funny bone
and when she realized I was wheezing with laughter she started laughing too
and we both laughed till we cried,
And we agreed; Laughter is truly the best medicine.
James 4:15
Instead, you ought to say,
“If it is the Lord’s will, we will live
and do this or that.”
(lyrics below)
Step by step, take my hand and lead me,
My Guide, my Light.
(German) So nimm denn meine Hände und führe mich
Bis an mein selig Ende und ewiglich!
Ich kann allein nicht gehen, nicht einen Schritt;
Wo Du wirst gehn und stehen, da nimm mich mit.
O take my hand and lead me, my Guide, my Light,
My path is rough and narrow in life's dark night.
Your hand will safely hold me through night and day,
You are my true companion, O with me stay.
You cover me with mercy and cleanse my heart,
Your goodness fills my being in every part.
And with Your hand to guide me I'm not alone.
Your presence lights my pathway until I'm at Home.
As step by step we travel to reach the goal,
Our songs of faith will echo and feed my soul.
So take my hand and lead me until I see
The heav'n where You receive me eternally.
