Of Dwindling Kindling

 

Because winter fireplaces/woodstoves take a lot of kindling 

we are already on the look-out at the end of people's driveways 

where camp-fire wood is for sale.

Reminds me of a different kind of kindling, 

always dwindling far too fast...

This hour where the flower bluffs

On beauty’s candlestick

Cannot escape the hand that snuffs

Its flicker from the wick

Now frets upon heart’s deep desire

A fond, intoning knell

Where joys that kindled friendship’s fire

Have dwindled to farewell

The dying embers on a hearth

Where round we gathered, oft

Wakens in us the dusk of mirth

In footsteps, keen yet soft

…where pain bends pleasure’s maiden form

In pangs of sweet refrain

To take the tender heart by storm

With ‘till we meet again’

…until in some morrow’s delight

While wounds of parting heal

We’ll tend the echoes that ignite

What farewell cannot steal

P-s-s-s-t! ash to ash and dust to dust

The quickened pulse will fell

Death veils frail trails of wanderlust

With whispers of farewell

This hour where the flower bluffs

On beauty’s candlestick

Cannot escape the hand that snuffs

Its flicker from the wick

Then cherish well heart's deep desire

Beneath high-noon's blue bell

Where joys that kindle friendship's fire

Are dwindling to farewell

© Janet Martin

Season-sparks

this poem was sparked by the soundless spiral of a petal...

We've gone from This...

...to This

...to This! in a matter of weeks! (4, I think)

How swift a season sets a match to moments tinder dry

No one can find a net to catch the sparks that upward fly

How soon the garden-patch showcases a seed’s wondrous ways

While barefoot laughter races through life’s care-unhindered days

Oblivious and chivalrous to time’s unbridled flight

While morning sheds its blush cocoon, and noon morphs into night

The flower flares ere petal ash settles its beaming score

Come, let’s not wait until too late to take the time to pore

Over a gate or arbor laden with bud’s maiden boon

Over the pretty pages of a summer afternoon

Over the landscape changing right before our very eyes

Where none can find a way to bind the seams through which time flies

The way to where we were is always barred by where we are

Then let’s not linger, looking back or wishing on a star

But rather, run our fingers through the fabric of today

Before its gold turns misty blue then fades into the fray

Of yesterdays, gossamer-gray and always out of reach

For none can stay the waves of dusk that wash across yon breach

We’re all in this together, getting older by the hour

All learning how to weather where we’ve never been before

Coming to terms with what time gives and takes, momentous must

As lessons of relinquishment compel us to adjust

Our points of view where vantage points are altered or estranged

Where no one can persuade time’s hand to leave the sheave unchanged

Let’s never take for granted, morning’s easy come and go

For soon the seeds we’ve planted turn to reaping what we sow

While Now-to-Then beneath a swaying sickle soon is felled

Where none can stem the trickle filling seasons, briefly held

Like brushstrokes on a canvas that keeps changing its façade

Each season softly dances to the music played by God

© Janet Martin

Eccles.3:1

To everything there is a season, 

A time for every purpose under heaven:

Psalm 103:15-18

As for man, his days are like grass;
As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
16For the wind passes over it, and it is [b]gone,
And its place remembers it no more.
17But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
On those who fear Him,
And His righteousness to children’s children,
18To such as keep His covenant,
And to those who remember His commandments to do them.

On Going Through The Change...

They don't call it The Change for nothing, my sister and I conceded as we

lamented some of the maladies of middle-age😓

As I pondered this it made me think of a few other changes

that we should, by God's grace, go through

(and some that eventually we will) by God's promise, 

go through...

***

Some changes are anticipated eagerly,,

like the change a new baby brings

or winter warming to spring

Others we would dodge if we could,

But changeless God, if we allow Him

works change for our good!

***

Always day changes to night

then night to day...

Change challenges and teaches us

It vexes and delights

It startles and beseeches us

With ruthless appetites

Oh, nothing stays the same for long

In life’s foray of days

The hand of change is sure and strong

Insisting on its ways

Both good and ill do not stand still

As surge of seasons roll

Change wistfully winnows until

All that remains is Soul

Change tempers us and teases us

The wrinkles it bestows

For all the ways it squeezes us

The least of our woes

Change changes us, estranges us

From who we used to be

A slow and steady genesis

To immortality

© Janet Martin

Behold, I tell you a [m]mystery: 

 shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed— 

52in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, 

at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, 

and the dead will be raised incorruptible, 

and we shall be changed.

1 Cor.15:51-52

Eph.4:17-24

So I tell you this, and insist on it in the Lord, 

that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking. 

18They are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God 

because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts.

  19Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality 

so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, and they are full of greed.

20That, however, is not the way of life you learned

  21when you heard about Christ and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. 22You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, 

to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 

23to be made new in the attitude of your minds;

  24and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Colossians 3:9-10

Do not lie to one another, since you laid aside the old self with its evil practices, 

and have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge 

according to the image of the One who created him—

Faithful One-Robin Mark

Of Love Well-lived (or Life Well-loved)

Better to be keenly aware

Of all the kindnesses that you bequeath...

Aware…of how you run your fingers through my hair so casually

And trace my face with lines without excuses or apology

Your touch, oh Father Time, is such, that none can tame or duck beneath

Better to be keenly aware

Of all the kindnesses that you bequeath

…in spite of all you steal and how we sometimes feel at loss for words

To spell the knell of farewell rolling through each season undeterred

Aware of heartstrings pulled and tugged in every tender way but loose

While a new generation fills

Our hugs and thrills to rhymes of Mother Goose

Aware of how vital prayer is; where we never know what we’ll meet

Aware of how your kiss, oh Father Time, is both bitter and sweet

And how the stage of middle age runs rife with life’s curious surprise

Aware of how a friend in deed

Is better than anything money buys

Aware that truth won’t change its mind no matter how we twist our pleas

Aware that youth will soon find out time is a mist of memories

And not on their side after all; as they turn into acrobats

Trying to balance hopes and dreams

On tight-ropes of less glam-matters of fact

Aware that our relationship should work in me, as years go by

A gentler attitude and more subdued approach to 'me' and 'my'

Because oh Father time, you are a teacher with uncanny ways

To reach beneath exteriors 

And turn want's restless passion into praise

Aware that we grow too soon auldt and too late schmart, as we become

The generation of old-farts/folk, out-of-fashion dad and mum

Aware that each day is a gift that we cannot afford to waste

But rather gather into hearts

The echo of fond, love-well-lived keepsakes

© Janet Martin

Two things I request of You
(Deprive me not before I die):
8Remove falsehood and lies far from me;
Give me neither poverty nor riches—
Feed me with the food allotted to me;
9Lest I be full and deny You,
And say, “Who is the Lord?”
Or lest I be poor and steal,
And profane the name of my God.

Prov.30:7-9

For We Who Tread The Thread of Numbered Days...

 

The ice-cream truck was such a special thrill last night

to celebrate a whole bunch of family birthdays!

I kept saying 'ch-e-e-e-ese' to try to get their attention, but, well...

they were deliciously distracted! 😋😄

So much birthday-joy already

celebrating so much to be thankful for

to the Giver of life's gift!

Meal cooked by one daughter and son-in-law...(last night)

 

Cake baked by another daughter for double celebration;

both parent's birthdays...

We get stretched out of comfort zones with or without approval’s nod

We start to feel in joints and bones the impact of life’s tug and prod

Futile to wish we could turn back the hands of time taking its toll

But take stock of this skin-bone rack; it is the Chariot of the Soul

We start to feel the subtle keel as scales of age begin to tip

Toward a stage, once so surreal, before our wheels began to slip

The stern command and upper hand of Father’s Time’s insistent gait

No matter how craftily planned, nobody can manipulate

This gift that always steals the young collects itself in numbered years

It peals from daybreak’s golden gong then rolls westward to join its peers

And takes us by age-old surprise; Time is both gentleman and brute

He tames the tiger in our eyes with Wonder’s sweeter substitute

How common day-to-day appears to we, aboard time’s teeming barge

Where one-by-one we disappear as death collects its chosen charge

Where none can order or predict who will be next to disembark

And meet the Giver of life’s gift as time flies upward like a spark

Cherish this gift but bear in mind the fugitive flight of its toll

This dust-to-dust we leave behind is but the Chariot of the Soul

An essence that remains concealed until that solemn, sacred day

When the gift’s Purpose is revealed as mortal wrapping falls away

Because life is a gift from God we do not authorize or choose

The why or wherefore of its rod, the tender tenure of its hues

The precious part of you and I is to revere with grateful praise

The One who grants the grace whereby we tread the thread of numbered days

© Janet Martin

Job 14:5

A person's days are determined; 

you have decreed the number of his months 

and have set limits he cannot exceed.

Never Too Old to Cherish...

After a long laundry-line full on Saturday I thought I had a head-start today!

Still lots for tomorrow plus whatever is hatching in hampers!

Whether it's never-ending laundry or other such chore

Soon time leaves us gaping at what is no more

no matter what stage we are in, it is a bubble about to pop!

So cherish💗

In the middle of the muddle

of whatever we are in

Whether kiss and cuddle baby

or a more teen-aged chagrin

Or, perhaps the nest we feathered

with a mother’s heart and soul

Is weathered, like a heart-shaped box

where echoes lilt and toll

Wherever, and whatever season

we are passing through

Pray that we cherish dearly

what will soon bid us adieu

Whether uphill puff and pedal,

whether downhill coast and glide

Soon dusk dons its gleaming medal,

Soon love sings here-comes-the-bride

Whether its chug-chug and puff-puff,

or run-run, like a gazelle

Live, laugh, love and pray, for today

always fades into farewell

Whether past time’s precious prime

or feeling like a super-star

Pray that we learn to cherish life

exactly where we are

© Janet Martin

(Inspired by a little conversation with my sister)

Date With Daybreak...

PAD Challenge 23: For today's prompt, write an appointment poem.

Ah, let me look at you longer

You always hurry by

As if you had appointments too

Up in the big blue sky

Ah, let me linger in your blush

Of young and fresh appeal

…yet, as I plea I sense the tug

Of duty’s tireless zeal

Ah, let me lean over the brink

Of where no one has been

To touch the hemline of your robe

Shimmering, silver-green

Ah, from my perch upon my porch

Let me learn, sweet and slow

Beneath the sunshine of your smile

The art of letting go

© Janet Martin

Of Weathered 'Would'

 

Weathered wood flaunts fresh foliage...

just as weathered 'would' unfolds fresh faith!

We try to turn the other cheek

To think twice, thrice before we speak

To make the most of More with less

To simplify our happiness

When life holds up to trembling lips

Its Cup of Joy, we savour sips

Where delight and despair compete

To cull a vintage, bittersweet

We work to win a well-earned rest

With good intent we strive for Best

We pray, we till time’s teeming sod

We plant, we wait; no ‘late’ with God

We wage wars twixt wonder and want

We struggle with faith’s feathered font

We try, but every now and then

We trip and need to try again

Inhale deeply, then exhale, slow

One foot forward, ah, here we go

Not crippled by Discipline's rod

But bolstered by the grace of God

From weathered wood/would fresh bud is borne

From Bygone's bloody bars, new morn

From slip and trip's face-planted low

We learn the little that we know

© Janet Martin

Phil.3:12-14

"Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; 

but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. 

Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, 

forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, 

I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

Because Time Flies...

This week I added two tots and an extra day to the childcare routine.

...as I repeat the weathered words-

Where did this last year go?!!

A year ago one of these tots was born,

then blink! 

she is one! and mom is back to work!

The wings that bear away the day 

Flash silver in the sun 

We from our heaps of frazzled fray 

And battles to be won 

Behold the Bird the draws the dawn 

From some far-phantom nest 

Ere dusk across the air is drawn 

And feathers fold in rest 

Where soon the fledgling, wild with youth 

Will join the gaping clan 

That wonders at the ageless truth 

Of fleeting days of man 

As Time’s momentous bird of prey 

Startles us with its wings 

And keens us to the changeless way 

Of ever-changing things 

We, tethered to Time’s old surprise 

Surge with the awe-struck throng 

Aboard the barge of  'how time flies’ 

That draws life’s charge along 

And teaches us to treasure more 

The moments as they come 

Because Time flies toward a door 

Not one will return from 

© Janet Martin 

Psalm 39:5
You, indeed, have made my days as handbreadths, 

and my lifetime as nothing before You. 

Truly each man at his best exists as but a breath. 

Selah

Prelude to the Awakening

Whoa!! 

The morning dissolved in errands that started at sun-up, 

then to a batch of bread...

a pan of granola bars

(recipe note: substitute dried cranberries with  any dried fruit, or chipits)

and if I don't have barley flakes I substitute quick oats and ground flax seed

...also, speaking from experience, the 20 min. cool time is optional if you want a sample sooner😀

and the whole morning had intermittent explosions/interruptions of harmonica music 

(my new toy thanks to some Christmas gift$$$ 

and an invitation to play for the kids at church on Sunday)!

Hello, heaven’s halo gleaming 

From a vault unplumbed, unfurled 

Like a fount of sequins streaming 

Through Want’s dreaming, scheming world 

Where progression and tradition 

Engage in clashing ideals 

Locking horns in opposition 

While time spins and thins its wheels 

Hello morning, Mercy’s token 

Fixed where every eye can see 

God has spoken, darkness broken 

By Ageless Authority 

He bestows gracious oblation 

Dawn throbs with love’s melody 

Pouring like an invitation 

Beckoning ‘come unto Me’ 

Hello, hope and heartache tango 

Teaching us the art of trust 

How to hold and how to let go 

In this dance of dust-to-dust 

Hello, happiness and hunger 

Learning love’s rhythm and rhyme 

Where no one is growing younger 

In the arms of Father Time 

Hello, season-circuit rider

On a phantom carousel

Of spring, summer, autumn, winter

Until we bid time farewell

Farewell, legacy-composer  

Farewell, fleeting breath-by-breath

Hello, morning drawing closer

The awakening in death

© Janet Martin 

Listened to this song from my daughter's playlist

this morning... 

Finally Free-Rend Collective

Psalm 136:1

Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good! 

For His mercy endures forever.

1 Chronicles 16:34
Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; 

His loving devotion endures forever.

Psalm 145:9
The LORD is good to all; 

His compassion rests on all He has made.

The Wonder-full Wake Of It All

This poem began with the intention of being about life

but turned into a poem that could also be about marriage

Life is full of lessons on learning how to get along and share!

Every summer the ducks at our cottage make me chuckle;

they seem like people in a way; some greedy and noisy

 and others more easy-going as they learn how to share

their food and their lake😊 

You know how it is; the kick and the kiss 

The sorrow that sweetens the joy 

The worlds that fly through hello and good-bye 

The duty that gathers our dreams in a sigh 

The beauty that feathers a tear to our eye 

And weathers the once-girl-and-boy 

You know how it goes, high-fives and low blows 

The wonder-full wake of it all 

The twist, turn and tug, the live-learn, the hug 

The pain-staking prayers for loads that we lug 

The haste of a year full of chug-chug-chug 

The sparkle of stars as they fall 

You know how it hurts; for better or worse 

So worth keeping hand to the plow 

The pull and the shove as we work through the rough 

Knowing sometimes showing up is enough 

Heave-ho, hold, let go, for the sake of love 

And the sanctity of a vow 

You know how it takes what we have and makes 

A heart-and-soul art-gallery 

The tint of Time slips through fingers and lips 

My, how the brush of the rush of days drips 

Into a mural of tempests and ships 

And by God’s grace, love’s legacy 

© Janet Martin 

 

 

Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, 

but also for the interests of others.

Phil.2:4