Today Page

 

oh look! Breakfast visitors!

Our lives are like a book

Each day a page we fill

With choice and consequence. Ah, look

Where morning’s mercies spill

Not willing that we turn

To where we were before

Love splays beneath the ways we learn

A pristine page once more

Duty and beauty brim

Ah look; the earth is green

Spring hoists a hallelujah hymn

Where Barren World had been

How much God’s grace allots

To be so thankful for

His goodness overflows with what

Has never been before

…yet age to age proclaims

The faithfulness of He

Who lowers death’s verge to life’s frames

Hinged to eternity

Where the ink we employ

Is poured from virgin grails

God beckons us to sing for joy

For His kindness prevails

Oh pray, as we advance

In years, life’s lessons earn

More than a weathered countenance

But wisdom’s rich return

Run through with thankfulness

For each new Today Page

From God’s enduring faithfulness

From age to age to age

© Janet Martin

Psalm 95:1-7

Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD;

let us shout to the Rock of our salvation!

2Let us enter His presence with thanksgiving;

let us make a joyful noise to Him in song.

3For the LORD is a great God,

a great King above all gods.

4In His hand are the depths of the earth,

and the mountain peaks belong to Him.

5The sea is His, for He made it,

and His hands formed the dry land.

6O come, let us worship and bow down;

let us kneel before the LORD our Maker.

7For He is our God,

and we are the people of His pasture,

the sheep under His care.

Song-sparrows are singing their little birdie-hearts out

this morning, but I couldn't get a long clip

because of a steady stream of noisy traffic...

Celestial Reveille

Some mornings I feel drawn from my bed as if by a celestial reveille! 

Today flickers upon a wick where dawn flings shutters wide

Live/love well before its candlestick is snuffed by eventide

Today is another shivery offering!

I think everyone is winter-coat weary!

Even the daffodils look a little forlorn,

slumped against the morning chill

The maple-blossoms seem to cringe as the bud breaks and 

nudges them from its nest...

But, before today is brushed from Time's slate

we have an opportunity to make the best and most of it!

Thank-you, Lord!

Ah, who knows what today will bring

Before it folds its gilded wing

Over a world surrendering

To the tug of dusk’s evening star

Where now dawn’s coffers overflow

With fresh offers of joy and woe

And God’s kind grace, whereby we go

No matter where or who we are

Beneath the diligence of clocks

Time’s tutelage of ticks and tocks

Startles its students with hard knocks

Offset by spring's welcome delights  

While the grave gapes, we brave the day

Rife with life’s constant come-what-may

Where rivers run and children play

And buds burst with gold, pinks and whites 

Ah, who knows, as dawn’s tent is pitched

What will be tested, torn or stitched

Will hearts be broken or bewitched

Before dusk tucks to history

The echo of a pirouette

We have not touched or tasted yet

But soon will be forever set

In Bygone’s soldered gallery

Then dream and dance and work and play

And make the most of moment-fray

And don’t you dare forget to pray

And laugh and learn and love and sing

In spite of brutal fist-a-cuffs

Come, brave this newborn day because

Dusk is the douter that soon snuffs

Lifetimes beneath its gilded wing

Don't miss the music as it spills

From vaults unveiling vales and hills

A pilgrimage through daffodils

And mercy's myriad

Where we do not embark alone

Into the darkness of  Unknown

But by God's kindness we are shown

The way to rejoice and be glad

© Janet Martin

somehow painting and poetry don't mix the best...

This morning was a see-saw of  poem, patching holes, sanding,

pegging a bit more poem, priming patches,

and morning poem has turned to noon poem!

Isa.26:2-4

Open the gates,

That the righteous nation 

which [a]keeps the truth may enter in.

3 You will keep him in perfect peace,

Whose mind is stayed on You,

Because he trusts in You.

4 Trust in the Lord forever,

For in Yah, the Lord, is [b]everlasting strength.

Mercy-bespoke...

Today's poem was inspired in part by the surprise of a pretty sunrise, 

where I had mentally prepared for a rainy start to today, 

and the lusty robin heralding new morning and maybe forecasted rain too 😅💖

Also by the sudden conviction that we all should want to wonder more

 at our Creator whose morning/mercy never misses its mark!

...and, mercy bespoke??

yes! not the way man orders it 

but the way God orders it, perfectly, undeservedly!

The gilt-edged grace-pledged morning spills

From molten molds, mercy-bespoke

To draw the dark from dells and rills

And hills and fields like a plush cloak

Tugged from yon verge’s frameless clime

Unveiling vistas perched like art

On pedestals as old as time

To strike sheer wonder to the heart

For He, whose faithfulness remains

In spite of recreant reply

God’s covenant of old sustains

Renewal, filling earth and sky

Where you and I are not forgot

Caught between what was and will be

On a fresh threshold, mercy-wrought

On the verge of eternity

Where none can see how near or far

We are to The Sunrise That Flings

One Final Gilt-edged Gate Ajar

To draw the soul on welkin wings

Beyond this Bar of Burdened Must

And trust, not for the faint of heart

Where gilt-edged daybreak cheers tear-dust

With mercy-bespoke works of art

While we weather four-season’s wraith

The tether round wings not yet spanned

Where warp and weft of hope and faith

Confounds the ground whereon we stand

Feathering from the soul, the shroud

That fickle fools dote on and laud

Forgetting the fate of the proud

On That Morning that unveils God

…where gilt-edged, grace-pledged morn extends

The great divide, where heavens brim

With glimpses of He who befriends

The creature who confides in Him

Where, without fail He fills the dark

Psalm nineteen thundered thoroughfare

Awakens the trill of the lark

Kindles anew, devotion’s prayer

Where often we misunderstand

The Faithful Hand that tips the grail

That pours across the slumb’ring land

Ethereal sands that rend night’s veil

Where, on Creation’s Pedestal

Once more He plants love’s Living Proof

An every-morn Original

That only fools dare hold aloof

© Janet Martin

Lam.3:21-26-31-33

his I recall to my mind,

Therefore I have hope.

22 Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,

Because His compassions fail not.

23 They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.

24 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

“Therefore I hope in Him!”

25 The Lord is good to those who wait for Him,

To the soul who seeks Him.

26 It is good that one should hope and wait quietly

For the salvation of the Lord...

For the Lord will not cast off forever.

32 Though He causes grief,

Yet He will show compassion

According to the multitude of His mercies.

33 For He does not afflict [i]willingly,

Nor grieve the children of men.

I've shared this song many times because I love to listen to it

in the morning when I rise...I hope you do too🙏💓

Give Me Jesus

Age-old New

 this poem was inspired in part by 'the age-old New' aka morning

New day like a sky wide duvet of blush and blue and gold, unfolds

Above earth’s trench-and-trove tableau bursting with what the future holds

The loom that weaves lifetimes resumes its subtle dismantling of youth

Doubt and deception’s clout still the bold, uncouth archrivals of truth

Desire and duty aspire, conspire, compose reply

While pardon cradles gardens and gutters and stutters of oh-my

...either to He who orchestrates the sky-wide Gates of day and night

Or to lesser gods, frauds with an insatiable appetite

Once more the day the Lord has made is laden with bitter and sweet

Morn’s mantle soon trampled and torn by the plunder of hands and feet

Soft as a featherdown duvet wafting aloft, dawn’s first burst fades

Into the noise of grief and joy’s brief and boisterous escapades

Time’s climes, where nursery rhymes, sun-bonnets, sonnets, hymns and scars accrue

Unfold landscapes where echoes traipse while wonder gapes at age-old New

© Janet Martin

It was also inspired by a new, old nursery-rhyme book...

...because this grandmother just can't seem to resist 

Mother Goose and her silly, sweet, and sometimes

slightly shocking entourage!  😅💛

And after all, isn't Mother Goose like Winnie the Pooh?

For children of all ages??

(the artists all seem to have their personal gift/style of whimsy)

Majestic Masterpiece (aka Mercy)

To the locals, no, this was not today!😅😅

The one below is this morning!! 

just as majestic...at second glance!

Gold-dipped daybreaks have been far and few between, the last few months!!

The first photo one of the few from mid-February!

But, whether gold or gray the Giver is the same, who grants each day

What a sound, 

like muffled thunder, 

or a rolling sea

must fill God's ears

as millions of feet touch down 

each morn on the façade of eternity 

Yes, at first glance it appeared to be

'another lackluster dawn'

But a longer look transformed it...

and suddenly I was smitten with

a rekindled desire to taste 

in full its sparkle of moments

far too precious to waste

It rolls from age to age

Unruffled by the years

It sits at front and center stage

As night unveils its piers

To bear the brunt of feet

Where raring highs and lows

Of eternal import compete

Upon its fleeting pose

It gleams with hope’s appeal

And groans with hope’s despair

And laughs with hope’s replenished zeal

As worry yields to prayer

And hunger to the Must

That none can long ignore

But hounds Soul’s vestibule of dust

With wolves that stalk death’s door

It gleams with dreams reborn

From shards that love will purge

It rises on the mist of morn

Like a majestic verge  

To grant to mortal berth

Another worthy lease

As God plants on the face of earth

Mercy’s fresh masterpiece

Anchored in swells of change

A surf, where seasons shift

And circumstances rearrange

The turf, but not the gift

God siphons from the ash

Of Bygone’s lifeless fray

A jewel for yon eastward sash

A phoenix called Today

How oft we trample it

Underfoot without thought

While, all the while we sample it

With what God’s grace has wrought

Forbid we haste, unawed

By God’s mercy displayed

But as we waken, first applaud

This day that He has made

© Janet Martin

Well known, well-loved easily forgotten verses

that really bear daily repeating, don't they?!!💓🙏

Lam. 3:22-23

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;[a]
    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

Psalm 118:24

This is the day the LORD has made; 

We will rejoice and be glad in it.

March Morning Celebration Meditation

Happy, Happy March!

(because I didn't get this poem posted this morning as originally planned

I could include a bonus dusk shot as well!)

"it looks like its one of those pray-for-strength days once again',

I remarked to my daughter this morning, as she told me about her 

lack-of-sleep night because of sick children...

(don't you find most days are better if we draw from a

wellspring of strength beyond our own?)

Dawn... 

Dusk...

Like a black cushion, full of pins

The night sky fades; the earth

Reappears where new day begins

Its waltz of woe and mirth

Across creation’s stomping ground

(In full color, no less)

Hope and strength for today are found

In God’s kind promises

He hears our prayers, He knows our need

No matter what we face

No care we bear can e’er exceed

The measure of His grace

Thus, though we cannot see what lies

Beyond a moment’s sum

It is enough to realize

Where our help comes from

...the Maker of Heaven and earth

Watches o'er you and me

His mercy stokes night's death with birth

Dawn is a bird set free 

© Janet Marin

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—

he who watches over you will not slumber;

4 indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord watches over you—

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

6 the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—

he will watch over your life;

8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore.

Like Glimpses Through a Gate

Psalm 16:11

You will show me the path of life; 

In Your presence is fullness of joy; 

At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

The thrill of February spring was short-lived,

...as was the clean up from previous ice-storms, 

 We woke to a world ensconced in nature's glitz!

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth's happiness, so full of holes...

February is always a struggle for me, poetically-speaking, 

and this February is no exception, so emotionally demanding/draining

 with so much local trouble and sorrow,

not to mention globally!

But hallelujah,

 God Was, Is, and Ever Will Be in perfect control!

We walk by faith, not by sight!

2 Cor.5:7

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth's happiness, so full of holes

Where grief exacts love’s bitter thorn

As dreams are dashed and hearts are torn

…and then the morn heaps hope’s buffet

As mercy’s masterpieces splay

Like glimpses, through a gate ajar

Where everlasting pleasures are

How often our faith could be

Disillusioned by tragedy

This, but part and parcel of Time

Tethered to weathered season-chime

Where rhyme and reason could dismiss

God’s goodness with betrayal’s kiss

Until, like glimpses through a gate

He reminds us of joys that wait

How often we could lose our way

If we relied on logic’s say

Where wise and fool alike concede

Man’s days are few and full of need

But, the best this world can demand

Pales, compared to God’s Promised Land

Glimpsed through a gleaming gate, agape

With impressions of its landscape

How oft the poet’s flound’ring prayer

Could yield to pirates of despair

Where unholy taunt plunders thought

And steals joy with blessings forgot

Until God opens downcast eyes

To impact us with sweet surprise

Unveiled, like glimpses through a gate

Where worship’s endless pleasures wait

How oft life's weight of care could wage

A war that nothing could assuage

Without more than this world can host

Of temporary toast and boast

Hoisted between eternities

A flail of mortal agonies

While glimpses through yon Gate remind

The man of the soul's transient rind 

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth’s happiness, so full of holes

With glimpses of Heavenly Hills

From whence our Help and Comfort spills

To cheer us onward in the flight

Of walking by faith, not by sight

Until Yon Gate eclipses grace

And glimpses become face-to-face

© Janet Martin

Psalm 121:1-3

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

2My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

3He will not allow your foot to [a]be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber.

Lord, I Need You

I Need Thee Every Hour

Ode to a Sunrise

It must be memorialized;

the first sunrise of 2023!!

gold floods the waking world

welkin wealth spills and swells

like a glimpse of heaven unfurled

to crown earth’s hills and dells

a fervent friendliness

kindles ageless romance

hope dons the humble happiness

that bids the heart to dance

as morning laughs and sings

and makes us feel so fine

creating castles fit for kings

with glorious sunshine

...the fog-sullen rampart

dissolves; earth held at bay

Is unveiled like a work of art

Entitled Sunny Day

...a vaulted coffer tips

a dazzling surf of stars

across dawn's common ground that drips

from the Artist's paint jars

© Janet Martin

Psalm 105:2

Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him: 

talk ye of all his wondrous works.

Psalm 96:1
Sing to the LORD a new song; 

sing to the LORD, all the earth.

Psalm 143:5
I remember the days of old; 

I meditate on all Your works; 

I consider the work of Your hands.

Psalm 145:17

The Lord is righteous in all His ways,
Gracious in all His works.

One of my favorite hymns by one of my favorite artists!!

Thankyou David Wesley!

Goodness of God

With Love that Never Fails (As Surely as the Morn)

But as for me, I will sing of Your strength;

Yes, I will joyfully sing of Your faithfulness in the morning,

For You have been my refuge

And a place of refuge on the day of my distress.

17 My strength, I will sing praises to You;

For God is my refuge, 

the [t]God who shows me favor.

Psalm 59:16-17

We can so easily get caught up, attracted and distracted by what we see

rather than what we know is so because God said it!

The One who constantly awes us with masterpieces

of morning sky and nature's my-oh-my,

He is our refuge and strength!

Though so much seems to fail

Never The Hand that draws

The break of day across the vale

That groans with mercy’s cause/laws

And unfolds in the palm

Of grace, the molten sky

And parts the wingspan of the dawn

Like a new butterfly

Where we, creatures of dust

And mist/must of numbered days

So often fail to fully trust

The higher thoughts and ways

Of He who never fails

Is spite of what some say

Even while mercy’s Hand unveils

And grants another day

Where morn-to-morn unfolds

(a twinkle in time’s eye)

Exteriors that man beholds

Beneath fringes of sky

Where so much seems to fail

When weighed by what we see

In worship’s hour of travail

Before eternity

Consider this, dear friend

Before we shake a fist

And curse He whose mercies attend

Both saint and atheist

Who makes the rain to fall?

Who does love emerge from?

Who paid sin’s ransom, once for all?

And calls on all to ‘come’?

He knows each creature care

And suffered every one

Because Love did not choose to spare

The status of His Son

A manger met His birth

A cross displayed His death

Where no one could fathom the work

Fulfilled at his last breath

Then, though so much seems loss

Remember, we behold

As they who stood beneath the cross

But fringes of the Whole

Where, though thought’s logic fails

Never the Hand of He

Scarred with the imprint of the nails

That set death’s captives free

He is the King of kings

He is the Lord of lords

Who bore salvation's sufferings

Beneath the thrust of swords

With love that never fails

As surely as the morn

The landscape of life's path unveils 

His mercies are reborn 

© Janet Martin

As surely as the morn

The landscape of life's path unveils, 

His mercies are reborn 

A Prayer-Poem of Hope and Praise

The magnitude of this morning's sunrise 

was impossible to capture in the lens of a camera...

A little like God's goodness and love 

are impossible to capture in

the lines of a poem!

Dear Heavenly Father,

A prayer-poem of hope and praise!

From strength to strength in You

Sweet consolation this

Whatever valley we pass through

Whatever grief afflicts

Whatever tries joy’s cup

Whatever storm we face

From strength to strength, You bear us up

By your sufficient grace

Where nothing in this world

Transcends Your love so true

Like a majestic Light unfurled

To guide us home to You

© Janet Martin

Psalm 84:5-7

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
    whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
6 As they pass through the Valley of Baka,
    they make it a place of springs;
    the autumn rains also cover it with pools.[d]
7 They go from strength to strength,
    till each appears before God in Zion.

Flower Bower/Power

 Watching day dawn was a little like watching a bud unfold its flower!

The heavens burst with hymns

For Mercy’s ceaseless ways

The bower of Beginning brims

And overflows with praise

The countenance of earth

Dons shades of hope renewed

As witnessing God’s grace gives birth

To humble gratitude

Darkness cannot prevail

Morning melts midnight’s gloom

With perfect love that will not fail

As heavens burst with bloom

© Janet Martin

Give Me Jesus

Lam 3:22-23 ESV

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;[a]
    his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.