Ephemeral and Eternal or The Briefness Of It All

May is flying by in a flurry of hellos and farewells

and smiles and tears...

and much to do!! 

How soon the little boy and girl sheds childhood's innocence ...

...where every hour bursts with blooms that fade like flower-storms 

The dust we till, hustles a loom that never quite conforms

To want-and-wishing's wistful whims; 

How gray-gold-greenly moments spill and meld to Nevermore

Today's gush of gossamer twill so briefly held before 

Ephemeral and eternal, are deftly intertwined

Tangible to intangible as echoes strew behind 

Life's dues of give and take weave so much more than meets the eye

Love's hues sparkle and ache and grin and groan with my-oh-my 

How soon the little boy and girl sheds childhood's innocence 

How surely choices lilt and swirl, unfurling Consequence 

Ephemeral and eternal, Time's subtle shuttle hums

As both brutal and beautiful to Bygone's cast succumbs

As morn, moment by moment weds with yester-scapes of death 

As God's unfailing purpose threads through every gifted breath

...where every hour bursts with blooms that fade like flower-storms 

The dust we till, hustles a loom that never quite conforms

To want-and-wishing's wistful whims; while moments spill and meld

Weaving with wisps that flare and dim, a lifetime briefly held 

Ephemeral and eternal, where no two days the same

Tune flurries of hello-farewell no one can curb or tame

Leaving so much to ponder with each season rise and fall 

As smiles and tears grow fonder with the Briefness of it all

Janet Martin

Because in a Sense It Is Always Planting Season...

Like buds, morning breaks

hours unfold 

bearing noon-blooms

that fade and fall,

like so many flower-petals

to strew the dust of dusk

The petals of days to weeks to months to years

scatter seasons of life in their wake...

We are here for such a small 'season'

in light of eternity;

an eternity that begins

in the moment awaiting every single one of us,

when we close our eyes,

never to open them again on earth!

No matter what season we are in

we are students in its 'classroom'

with still so much to learn...

1 Tim.6:11-12

But you, O man of God, flee from these things (the love of money)

 and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, 

love, perseverance, and gentleness.

 12Fight the good fight of the faith. 

Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called 

when you made the good confession before many witnesses.

spring, summer, autumn, winter twirls

a kind of carousel

that often startles boys and girls

with hello's swift farewell

as childhood drifts from carefree streams

as adolescence sails

into a world of hopes and dreams

where Reality hails

with that which life is bound to bring

as the years come and go

a very sacred harvesting

for we reap what we sow

where autumns and winters accrue

bearing the telling yield

of seeds we strewed while dashing through

springtime and summer's field 

Janet Martin

Though we cannot turn back the clock

and undo what is done

or un-plant what is planted

this is a new day the Lord has made!

We can rejoice and be glad in it

and ask Him to help us to be mindful of the seeds we strew today,

for, in a sense it is always planting season

and no one lives to see the full extent of the harvest

for better or worse.

Oh, pray we plant for the better today!

Seeds of righteousness, godliness, faith, 

love, perseverance, and gentleness.

A lot of thought goes into spring planting because

every gardener and farmer knows

we cannot reap what we do not sow!

Last week the first teeny-weeny start on this year's garden-planting!

No! this is not all my garden!!

Beyond the grass strip is the farmer's field!

He has lent me a corner of his field so I am able 

to have a larger garden than I could otherwise enjoy!

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

Sometimes You Say I've Changed...

Jim and I are approaching our birthdays-season,

kindling tender reflection.

Jim is entering a new decade on Saturday💓🙏

Once upon a time our parents were parents of little children,

then, they became parents of adult children,

Then they became parents of adult children with little children

Now they are parents of adult children with adult children 

who are raising the next generation of little children...

and so it goes.

Nothing and no one stays the same for long!

Best to embrace the place/grace we are in,

for where one season is,

another is waiting to be

as long as life remains!

I am completely content in the season I am in,

not because everything is perfect but because

there are enough joys to balance the heartaches.

Thank-you, Lord!

Spending time with our children

and grandchildren is one of 

life's blessed joys, in the season Jim and I are in.

I love how helping to plant potatoes made Grand-kiddos

 feel happy, important and valued...

(the 'taking turns' rule kept it lively, 

with always someone trying to sneak in two 'turns' in a row 😂)

We had eight rows planted in next to no time at all!

Good times 💖

And great opportunity to live out this passage:

 Deut. 6:5-9

And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart

 and with all your soul and with all your strength.

6These words I am commanding you today are to be upon your hearts.

  7And you shall teach them diligently to your children (or grandchildren)

and speak of them when you sit at home 

and when you walk along the road, (or work in the garden)

when you lie down and when you get up. 

8Tie them as reminders on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.

  9Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates.

***

I love how the soft soil beneath their bare feet made them giddy with delight

I love how they still all love gramma's lap 💝 

I love when they can have some one on one grandpa time

 (while gramma cleans up supper dishes)

I love having  special reasons to bake...

 

Sometimes you say I’ve changed, and in a sense, I guess it’s true

Time changes things and I suppose it changes people too

Because perspective, with experience is apt to shift

The older that we grow the more we see life as a gift

The older that we grow the more we care about today

Because we’ve come to know how swift each day-gift slips away

To the permanent residence where centuries amass

Where everything that comes along is just as bound to pass

Where circumstance has always dealt both life’s better and worst

Where stepping stones to wisdom often felt like failure first

Where what we learned has earned a gentler, beholden regard

Because the way to learning it, was often slow and hard

Honing what we admire and desire and respect

And opening our eyes to joys we no longer neglect

As we begin to see without a shadow of a doubt

The certainties that younger people seldom think about

Where threescore year and ten or four was for far older crones

Before we looked time in the mirror and felt it in our bones

Admitting with aha, that time’s dexterous sleight of hand

Is more adept than any trick vain mortal can command

Sometimes you say I’ve changed; far sadder to remain untaught

After a lifetime leased to learn to love the way we ought

After day after day of grace, by mercy’s Hand arranged

Forbid the best that we can boast is that we never changed

© Janet Martin

Ps.90:12

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

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...

Ode to Father Time

Dear Father Time...

I never tire of your ways...

Your sweet and sun-steeped golden days...(today, a balmy 20C)

Your contours, swaddled in soft grays...

Your landscapes, washed in pink...

A quick pit-stop for supper and off again)

Spring is like a dog straining wildly at its leash today!

I never tire of your ways

Your sweet and sun-steeped golden days

Your contours, swaddled in soft grays

Your landscapes, washed in pink

Your rough-and-tumble give and take

Your waves that sob and surge and break

Across shorelines that gleam and ache

With untamed poem-ink

I never tire of your hymn

It trembles in the barren limb

And throbs as buds begin to brim

With orchestras of green

With daybreak’s lilac-tinted sighs

And twilight’s gentle lullabies

With hellos, harboring goodbyes

With all that falls between

I never tire of your waltz

Your minuet and somersaults

Your promenade that never halts

But twirls me round and round

Till I am breathless with delight

Yet never tire of the sight

Of you, gilt-edged ‘gainst gath’ring night

Of a new day unbound

I never tire of your ease

Turning moments to memories

Taming my younger-hungered pleas

With humble thankfulness

My cheek against your stubbly chin

Ah, darling, how can I begin

To count your ways I cannot win

Yet love you nonetheless

© Janet Martin