August Aubade

 A few frames that helped inspire today's poem...

Gently, like a silvery sea

August morn rolls across the lea

It gilds each bloom and leaf and stem

With liquid-jeweled diadem

Kissing yesterday’s soldered sums

With essence of peaches and plums

Binding the skyline to the land

With gauzy, turquoise-tinted strand

Across the gleaming dell and dale

God tosses a gossamer veil

A sparkling mantle, dewdrop-spun

Soon stolen by the climbing sun

But for a bit we gaze, agape

At August morning’s sequined cape

God’s handiwork bound to confound

And wake a sense of holy ground

...beneath the tread we oft assume

Without conscious awe of the loom

That weaves the threads of August morn

Through mead of wheat and field of corn

And rainbow-hued zinnia-fringed walks

And sentinel-like hollyhocks

It’s shadow-shuttle rustles leaves

With ties that bind Time’s soul-shaped sheaves

Janet Martin

James 4:14
You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! 

What is your life? 

You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

1 Peter 1:24
For, “All flesh is like grass, 

and all its glory like the flowers of the field; 

the grass withers and the flowers fall,

Job 14:1-2
“Man, who is born of woman, is short of days and full of trouble. 

 Like a flower, he comes forth, then withers away;

 like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.