Life's Hold-and-Let-Go Minuet

 

Off on a long anticipated trip to England!

...before moving out for the summer.

Last night the sun set on life-as-I-know-it for a while...

Today marks the beginning of a four-month empty-nester season

...though, thankfully this 'nest' is rarely empty for long!

Eccles.3:1

To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

...so here's to cherishing every moment

of every fleeting season of life!

Let me let nothing

pass me by

Let me leap for joy,

let me fly

And fall and taste

the salt of tears

Let me smile in the face

of fears

And never shirk

the work it takes

To make love’s

Memory-keepsakes

Like dreams come true

and birthday cakes…

Let me crave love’s pangs,

And the sting

That season change

is bound to bring

Then brave the brunt of

yes and no

To learn a humbler

letting go

Let me linger

but not too long

to catch the lyrics of

love’s song

That, as it fades

Grows sweet and strong

…still tangible

where echoes waft

The noise of boys and girls

grown soft

Upon the air

of night to night

And prayer on prayer,

oft taking flight

As hello hugs

and farewell tears

and tender tugs,

love's souvenirs

Compose tableaus

of yesteryears

...where, in the wake

of noon to noon/June to June

The ache of happiness

is strewn

Like minuets that

ebb and rush

Across shorelines,

blurred by a brush

that leaves no trace

save on my brow

where once-upon

a younger Now

Turned older

And meeker, somehow

...where love now wears

The priceless pain

Of sorrow like

A diamond-chain

I bind  it round

My neck and heart

Like a valuable

Work of art

That I would never

Choose and yet

That I never want

To forget

Life's Hold-and-let-go

Minuet

© Janet Martin

Luigi Boccherini: Minuetto (classical)

Strauss - The Blue Danube Waltz

Content to be Content

Last night, due to fog etc. the older half of our small group

was unable to be present and I was the only oldie,

(because the host home was two minutes from my home...)

I listened to young parents as they shared delights and challenges of

babies and tots.

Sometimes, youth in its 'youthful loveliness' can make more weathered relics

 hanker for days, long spent and much forgotten,

until my 'leveler head' prevails 😅

Sometimes I hunger deeply for life before the loss of loved ones

 altered it eternally.

Sometimes that longing serves as a wake-up call to 

redeem my time wisely rather than in foolish, futile lament. 💔

This was the Lord’s doing;

It is marvelous in our eyes.

This is the day the Lord has made.

We will rejoice and be glad in it

Ps.118:23-24

Don't wait until tomorrow to smell today's roses...

Sometimes, in foolish moments I hanker for days gone by

Where common scenes have softened until only love remains

Where lessons I once rued while youth unfurled its butterfly

Have settled like gold-dust in the wake of love's growing pains

And then I am content; futile, longing's lament because

Want wishes for a star-glossed world that never really was

Sometimes, in foolish  moments I am tempted to appeal

To once upon gone-good-old-days for laughter's freer vim

Until I turn to gaze at faces, kissable and real

Warm with the precious company of darling Her and Him

And then I am content with blessings too profuse to tell

Sensing a sacred cadence tuning hello with farewell

Sometimes in foolish moments I am blinded by a view

Surreal and sentimental, gleaming in yesterday's sun

Where time's redeeming brush has smoothed what once was troubled too

Where, rather than battlefields, a masterpiece has begun

And then I am content to relinquish Want's wanderlust

God keeps the Part that matters; all else is but dust to dust 

Sometimes, in wiser moments I am able to discern

The hues between the views that else would gleam in flawless poise 

I feel the faded sting of lessons we must live to learn

And even if I could I would not resurrect spent joys 

Content to be content though grief seasons the heart with scars

It grounds and guards love's feet from wand'ring lost, among the stars 

 © Janet Martin

I found this poem-gem in a book

I picked up the other day from our local thrift/treasure store  

Internal Exhale...

 "Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Phil.4:4-6

(read the whole glorious chapter HERE)

Rejoice in the Lord always.

Again I will say, rejoice!

5Let your [b]gentleness be known

 to all men.

 The Lord is at hand.

6Be anxious for nothing,

but in everything 

by prayer and supplication, 

with thanksgiving, 

let your requests 

be made known to God;

  7and the peace of God, 

which surpasses all understanding,

 will guard your hearts and minds 

through Christ Jesus.

O, I have ceased the need to rush as if my life depends on it

Content to watch the hush of dawn dissolve the darkness once again...

O, I have ceased to strain on reins that once vexed youth's audacity

Content to bask in the delight of little children, starry-eyed...

To marvel at a world a-thunder with God's creativity...

(I would love if someone could ID this bird! It fluttered/ ran ahead of me,

a bit curious at the intruder 😅)

forgive my blurry zoom lens

Content to learn from weightless wings, unhindered by tomorrow's care

To be taught by Child's innocence is to be astonished by joy...

'o-h--h! I can't wait till three o'clock, snack time!!!' sighed

Miss Sweet as sweet-can-be at two-thirty.

'Oh my! replied I, completely at a loss as how to live up to her anticipation/expectation.

'Do you like popcorn?' I asked, relieved I had one snack staple on hand.

Her pause suggested a 'no'. 

'Actually, what I am really wishing for is fresh bran muffins' 

(NOT what I was expecting at all, but so relieved. lol!)

'Guess what?!" I said. 'This very morning I was wishing for fresh bran muffins!!'

So, fresh bran muffins it was 💖😋

The day before our snack was breakfast cookies (click link)

 and Little Helper's verdict; so YUMMY!

They are the perfect mid-afternoon slump snack

O, I have ceased the need to rush as if my life depends on it

Content to watch the hush of dawn dissolve the darkness once again

To light Time's face with God's kind grace outpoured for our benefit

To tune the countenance of hope with love and joy and peace. Amen

O, I have ceased to strain on reins that once vexed youth's audacity

Content to bask in the delight of little children, starry-eyed

To marvel at a world a-thunder with God's creativity

To linger in November's dusk; brusque blush and blue-bathed countryside

O, I have ceased the futile quest of clinging to what none can claim

Content to let the gauze hemline of seasons slip through unclenched will

To be still and know He who fills boundless firmaments with His Name

Anoints each moment with His brush, as Today's Masterpieces spill 

O, I have ceased to Want for things, whose ownership death will destroy 

Content to learn from weightless wings, unhindered by tomorrow's care

To be taught by Child's innocence is to be astonished by joy

As meeker gratitude enriches happiness beyond compare 

O, I have ceased to be encumbered by Bygones I cannot wrest 

Content to concentrate on faces and favours still within reach 

To let the sorrows of this world be comforted by Heaven's Best

And wonder at the holy pleasure only God, through grief, can teach

O, I have ceased to pursue answers for His higher thoughts and ways

Content to know that He is able to do exceedingly more

Than I can think to think; then, with nothing but humbler, purer praise 

To take up faith's cross like a child, and trust God for what lies before  

O, I have ceased the need to rush as if my life depends on it

Content to watch the brush of dawn undo the darkness once again

And light Time's face with God's kind grace outpoured for our benefit

To tune the countenance of hope with love and joy and peace. Amen

© Janet Martin

While I was wrestling with the second last stanza of this poem 

my daughter, Victoria sent me a message, simply this;

Enjoying this collection of hymns this morning 😊

(and suddenly, as I listened, like a little miracle

the words fell into place!)

Tennessee Ernie Ford Hymns at Home

Thank-you God, for 'faces and favours still within reach' !

Thank-you for my family and friends, 

pouring out/in so many precious ways

to comfort me 🙏

Bless each one today! 

Goodbye July...

Hello all! 

I couldn't bear to wait till August to return,

simply so we can share 

sweet July's goodbye-grief together

Wheat fields wax gold, 

disappear...

Sun-diamonds stud sky-blue lake...

 

Pond is full of silver splash...

Garden goodness overflows...

How am I going to find my cucumber row under this squash plant jungle?!!

It looked like ample room when I planted those teeny seeds!!

And we have a little tomato plant forest as well!

Hard to believe it was this a month and a half ago!

Corn grows tall, a wall of green

Blocking panoramic scene...

(from now till corn harvest we will be

the Little House in the big (corn) Woods)

Every single field around us is tall corn

back view

side view

front view

So, we search for nearer thrills

Zinnias bloom on windowsills...

Wheat fields wax gold, disappear

Cricket chirp catches our ear

Sun-diamonds stud sky-blue lake

July’s goodbye stokes love’s ache

Shade tree beckons, cool retreat

Hairdo wilts in midday-heat

Tot sports popsicle mustache

Pond is full of silver splash

Freckles flourish, as does rose

Garden goodness overflows

Happiness hurts, torn between

What is, will be and has been

Dawn is dew-drenched, dusty-sweet

Want is quenched where waves wash feet

Wildflower profusion spills

Through ditches in rainbow rills

Footloose wonder scales new heights

Heady with July-delights

Bloom sports brooch of butterfly

Summer hearts brace for goodbye

Corn grows tall, a wall of green

Blocking panoramic scene

So, we search for nearer thrills

Zinnias bloom on windowsills

Sunflower beams, we beam back

Queen Ann flaunts lace bric-a-brac

July always feels so brief

Parting is love’s sweetest grief

Thunder rumbles, clouds release

Plush percussion masterpiece

Forging from hello, a bell

Tolling, heavy with farewell

Goodbye July, rest beneath

Summer’s glorious, floral wreath

Goodbye July, we would cry

But for August standing nigh

...a carpet of cricket-shirr

Ripples like a harbinger

Bearing August's bronze Baton

Over wheat fields, here and gone 

© Janet Martin

Sunflower beams, we beam back...

Queen Ann flaunts lace bric-a-brac...

Dawn is dew-drenched, dusty-sweet

Want is quenched where waves wash feet...

Goodbye July, rest beneath

Summer’s glorious, floral wreath...

How Oft-Soft a Sense of Joy-filled Grief...

...or, is it grief-filled joy?? 

(below, a week ago)

"If the tulips never died

the season for irises and peonies,

columbine and corn flowers,

 would never be born"

was my consolation during

 this morning's flower-garden stroll...

How oft/soft the haste of moments stirs

A bittersweet-ness as it blurs

The very present with the past

Ephemeral, yet iron-cast

How oft a long-awaited day

Of balmy breeze and sunbeam-play

Unfolds its bloom upon a stem

That cannot keep its diadem

…where soon echoes and petals meld

To grace the place where death is held

While overhead life thunders by

Beneath a rising, falling sky

How oft delight is caught off-guard

Where children dash across the yard

Heedless of currents that commence

To bear them from sweet innocence

…where soon they humble love's reply

With gaze that meets gaze, eye to eye

And we begin to revere more

The Hand that draws ajar dawn’s door

And we begin to slow our pace

To drain each precious drop of grace

From breakers as they heave and swell 

To wash dusk's shorelines with farewell

How oft we run with outstretched arms

But cannot hold for long, life’s charms

As love, ever a student, gapes

With groping awe, at spent landscapes

How oft we, like our silenced kin

When in the prime of groan and grin

Begin to sense a glove-like sky  

Taming/claiming an ocean of reply 

How oft then, time's momentum wakes

A bittersweet climax that breaks

Like foaming tides across a shore

Where lust for love and life implore

© Janet Martin

Eccles.3: 1-2

To everything there is a season,

A time for every purpose under heaven:

 A time [a]to be born,

And a time to die;

A time to plant,

And a time to pluck what is planted;...

I Wanna Live...