The Consequence of Spring

On Friday we had our annual potato-planting with our grandchildren💚

My, the years do fly...

 2024

2025

2026

(This year youngest grandson gave up in disgust,

being literally left in the dust 😂💖)

Whether planting Soul-sod or Earth-sod

Spring is a brief and precious time of very sacred toil...

Spring is a brief and precious Time of very sacred toil

As we redeem its hasting chime with seeds set into soil

How swift sweet planting season skims to Bygone’s soldered keep

And once-upon-barren-plot brims with fruit, ready to reap

Spring is life’s bright and beautiful fresh opportunity

To seize the day with dutiful delight’s humility

And ask He who instills the seed with awesome opulence

To help us plant with earnest heed and careful diligence

Spring is life’s hopeful time of year; as to the broken sod

We scatter seeds and feel so near to the heartbeat of God

As the substance of fruit hoped for and harvest still unseen

Soon bares/bears Evidence by the score, where barren plots had been

…for we reap what we sow; the loom of Spring is brief indeed

The Substance of The Hoped For Bloom begins with planted seed

Its beauty (or the lack thereof) unveils the Consequence

Of Spring, and faith’s consciousness of Harvest and Providence

Janet Martin

2 Cor.9:6

Remember this: 

Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly,

and whoever sows generously will also reap generously.

Gal.6:7-10

Do not be deceived: God is not to be mocked.

Whatever a man sows, he will reap in return.

8The one who sows to please his flesh, 

from the flesh will reap destruction;

but the one who sows to please the Spirit, 

from the Spirit will reap eternal life.

9Let us not grow weary in well-doing,

for in due time we will reap a harvest

 if we do not give up.

10Therefore, as we have opportunity, 

let us do good to everyone, 

and especially to the family of faith.

Prelude to Heaven or Happy Last Day of April

Happy Last Day of April!

Growth is beginning!

Though sometimes it feels slow in coming we know...

Gen.8:22

“As long as the earth endures, 

seedtime and harvest, 

cold and heat, 

summer and winter, 

day and night will never cease.”

and that's just the beginning of hope!!

because...

1 Cor.15:19

If only for this life we have hope in Christ,

we are of all people most to be pitied.

To rush the thorn with blushing rose...

Behold, after the winter, Spring!

The barren bough runs rife

With gold and green embellishing

Each treetop with new life

Like an ocean-tide ebbs and flows

So too the seasons surge

To rush the thorn with blushing rose

Like daybreak's virgin verge 

Hope orchestrates a holy hymn

In both nature and hearts

Behold the blossom-furbished limb

The kiss of sun imparts

Behold God's covenant fulfilled

'as long as earth remains'

And the prelude to Heaven spilled

In bud and birds refrains 

Janet Martin

The Fruit of Patience

Song of Solomon 2:11-12

...for behold, the winter is past;

the rain is over and gone.

 The flowers appear on the earth,

the time of singing[a] has come,

The fruit of patience overflows with ecstasy in nature’s prose

Where bluest blues and greenest green delight a world sandwiched between...

The fruit of patience beams and brims

And bursts into a world of hymns

As if to sing away all thought

Of wishing for what yet was not

While ill chill gale, with dauntless ease

Assailed to vex Want’s ‘pretty-please’

The fruit of patience overflows

With ecstasy in nature’s prose

Where bluest blues and greenest green

Delight a world sandwiched between

The earth beneath, the sky above

As hearts grow light with hope and love

The fruit of patience bids us dance

Like David of old; God still grants

Goodness and mercy all our days

To overflow our hearts with praise

To worship and sing joyfully

‘there is no other God but He…(2 Sam.7:22)

Who overthrows winter with spring

Whose breath instills each living thing

Whose thoughts and ways past finding out

Should anchor faith and vanquish doubt

Though patience groans and weeps and aches

Its fruit is worth the time is takes!'

Janet Martin

Welcome, Sweet Spring (no matter what the weather)

 Happy First Day of Spring!!!

Welcome sweet spring, whatever be the weather...

Welcome, fine artiste of splash-perfect puddles...

Where bulbs are bursting with anticipation

First a green shoot then, tulips, daffodils...

Welcome sweet spring, whatever be the weather

We know what you will bestow without fail

Hope; as we sense nature slackens the tether

That drives the tandem of bluster and gale

Welcome sweet spring, you are ever the victor

In tug of wars twixt two seasons; heave-ho

Your smile will always defeat Old Man Winter

Melting his ire as warmer winds blow

Welcome sweet spring, bringing sunshine and showers

Transforming vistas long barren and bleak

You fling ajar nature’s gateway to flowers

Waking earth’s gardens as you kiss Her cheek

Welcome sweet spring, laden with welkin ardor

Under the sun newness clothes naked limbs

Overhead blueness vaults; a cobalt arbor

Dappled with clouds like a meadow with lambs

Welcome sweet spring, always worth our waiting

No matter how strong persistence prevails

Sooner or later planting-contemplating

Turns into garden-dirt under our nails

Welcome sweet spring, with joy no prose can capture

Where the branch cradles the fluff-feathered nest

Where morning trembles with songbird-trilled rapture

Where the brook beckons with sun-dappled zest

…where the bud pulses with em’rald elation

Bathing bare woodlands in verdurous thrills

Where bulbs are bursting with anticipation

First a green shoot then, tulips, daffodils

Welcome, fine artiste of splash-perfect puddles

Welcome, harbinger of long summer days

Welcome, rooms heady with breezy befuddles

Fragrant with blossoms and born-again praise

While, we like eager children toss our mittens

With faces pressed to Time’s windows of air

With hearts as soft as pussy-willow kittens

Welcoming spring like an answer to prayer

Janet Martin

Fragrant with blossoms and born-again praise...

…where the bud pulses with em’rald elation

Bathing bare woodlands in verdurous thrills...

Spring-wonder

 

Spring, and esp. May, seems to ignite wonder at every turn!

below, a few wonder-frames which helped to kindle today's poem...

Wonder erects joy’s palaces in hidden landscapes of the heart

It spills from tulip chalices to thrill spectators with God-art...

In blossom-dappled masterpieces freely and profusely flung/hung

Where His handiwork never ceases to amaze both old and young...

Spring-wonder winds its way through smiles, like meadow-brooks meandering

Earth’s first burst of green-kindled isles replenishes hope’s eagle-wing

As gossamer-gold filigree weaves halos through lackluster limbs

Earth’s beauty spills abundantly from nature’s pockets, full of hymns

Wonder erects joy’s palaces in hidden landscapes of the heart

It spills from tulip chalices to thrill spectators with God-art

What meets the eye oft floods the soul with happiness no ink can tame

It triumphs winter’s weary toll with spring’s unfailing claims to fame

Wonder awakens gratefulness for spring’s return perfectly-timed

Praise God, whose loving faithfulness is evidenced in buds, bloom-primed

In blossom-dappled masterpieces freely and profusely flung/hung

Where His handiwork never ceases to amaze both old and young

The Composer of roses rouses us to slow our hasty stride

He bids us pause, then sweetly wows us with spring-mantled countryside

Wonder transcends thought’s plumbed dimensions; worship authors purest praise

As God captures our attention in grandest, minutest ways

We are too quickly prone to grumble; prone to fear, to doubt and fret

Till wonder makes us truly humble; if but for a micro-sec

When caught off guard by preaching flowers, bowers rich with bird and leaf

As the Maestro of sun and showers reminds us whose laws are chief

© Janet Martin

As gossamer-gold filigree weaves halos through lackluster limbs

Earth’s beauty spills abundantly from nature’s pockets, full of hymns...

We are too quickly prone to grumble; prone to fear, to doubt and fret

Till wonder makes us truly humble; if but for a micro-sec...

A Breathless Pause...

I felt it the other evening on a twilight trek,

and this morning where, after last night's thunder that rattled our windows

it seems to have cracked a vault!

The temps are climbing!

Do you feel it too 

on this day between Somber Good Friday

and glorious Easter Morn?!

A breathless pause...

A breathless pause before applause erupts in verdant wow

And laughter roars through bud-shaped doors studding still barren bough

Where Sense of Verge ignites an immense urge to dance and sing

Because the earth replete with birth kindles hope’s song of spring

…and windowpanes and puddled lanes wear raindrop’s happy tears

They tickle timid shoots and quicken woodland’s teeming cheers

And robin trills and daffodils and dormant hills reply

And all the world is silver-pearled beneath a beaming sky

The lawn is full of sticks where nature’s arborist pruned trees

And eggs are full of chicks that youngsters are eager to squeeze

The garden smiles, the breeze beguiles us to linger to gaze

At sanguine scenes played out in dreams of flower-precious days

…and we all feel youth’s fresh appeal; the zeal of joy renewed

Ambition streams with hopes and dreams and humble gratitude

To God, because a breathless pause captures Life held at bay

Before applause erupts because the stone is rolled away

© Janet Martin

John 11:25

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. 

He who believes in Me, though he may die,

 he shall live.

Selah - How Deep The Father's Love For Us [with lyrics]

Divine Drumroll

 'A poem should never be centered' Victoria told me yesterday morning (something she learned in the poetry class she took in her previous semester). What?!! I gasped, and realized that my poem-book collection is filled with 'uncentered' pages yet it never occurred to me why; but line length, layout, pauses etc are part of a poem's persona and centering it on the page removes that element of the poem! (proving how much I have yet learn when it comes to poetry)

So, please forgive the previous posts. From now on I will post to the left of the page. (it is on my wish-list to take some poetry courses but maybe in my 60's??) Life seems to have drained my mental energy tank right now!

Do you feel it too?! Beneath earth's dull façade, a kind of divine drumroll...

Beneath earth’s umber solitude
After winter’s gale is subdued
A petal-prelude starts to play
On listless landscapes, stark and gray

Ah, can’t you sense a teeming surge
Where raindrops dance on dreamland’s verge
Ere violets, tulips, daffodils
Inaugurate summer-long thrills

…where soon lackluster sweeps will gleam
With nature’s nuances of green
With blossom-blush, where naked limbs
Await the garb of leaf-song hymns

Where spring’s impending loveliness
Begins to stir beneath a tress
Of barren boughs and dormant deeps
Instilled with promises God keeps

Ah, can’t you feel the rush of hope
Beneath the burlap-swaddled slope
Arousing a divine drumroll
Resounding in both land and soul

© Janet Martin

Gen.8:22

“As long as the earth endures, 

seedtime and harvest, 

cold and heat,

summer and winter, 

day and night 

will never cease.”

Something About Planting Season

The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof.

Ps.24:1

What are you singing, asked my husband on Saturday

as he heard me humming while I worked in the flower garden...

I thought for a moment and realized I was singing this stanza

(to no fixed tune😅🎵)

which often comes to mind while I putter in the garden,

The kiss of the sun for pardon,

The song of the birds for mirth,--

One is nearer God's heart in a garden

Than anywhere else on earth...

(full poem below post)

Something about planting season overflows the heart with cheer...

When the plow breaks dormant fallow and dust’s pungent incense spills...

Something about green-spun bowers bursts the heart with happiness...

Gardens, showcasing spring flowers, fuels worship’s epic ‘yes’

Something about lilac fragrance, enchanting warm winds of change

Makes us feel like God is granting good, old days naught can estrange...

Something about planting season overflows the heart with cheer

Hope rekindles wearied/worried reason with fresh starts, year after year

As the age-old call of duty/beauty hails from barren sweeps/deeps of sod

Toil is charged with awe for beauty/duty, cradled in the hand of God

When the plow breaks dormant fallow and dust’s pungent incense spills

When the bough brandishes halos of blossom and leafy thrills

When, once more faith is the substance of seeds scattered to the earth

Joy, akin to Eve of Christmas awes us with wonders of birth

Something about green-spun bowers bursts the heart with happiness

Gardens, showcasing spring flowers, fuels worship’s epic ‘yes’

Something about fresh-turned furrows fills us with humble content

Planting season helps heal sorrows that we cannot circumvent

Something about heavens laughing in blue hues beyond our ken

Feels like angels autographing May afternoon with God’s pen

Something about lilac fragrance, enchanting warm winds of change

Makes us feel like God is granting good, old days naught can estrange

Makes us feel like God is giving earth glimpses of Heaven-ness 

Makes us believe man is living in love’s lap of faithfulness 

Makes us want to thirst and hunger for favors His love deploys/employs

Makes us suddenly feel younger in a world of simpler joys

Something about planting season overflows the heart with mirth

Something in the air is teasing graves with melodies of birth

Something about spring's apparel puts a smile upon the face

Pink and yellow, green and purple masterpieces of God's grace

*Something about, when yon cloud tips like a big, watering can

Makes us marvel, like the Psalmist and echo awe's, 'what is man?'

Something about labor halted, grants us opportunity

To be sure God is exalted above likes of you and me 

Something about planting season sings of God’s mercies renewed

Earth is gaping with remission, kindling hymns of gratitude

Seed is throbbing with provision; miracles infuse the sod

Something about planting season draws us to the heart of God

© Janet Martin  

Something about, when yon cloud tips like a big, watering can

Makes us marvel, like the Psalmist and echo awe's, 'what is man?'

* I thought the poem was complete then a good, old thunderstorm rolled through

inspiring one more, the second last stanza. 

(my apologies to those who prefer a quick read)😅💓

..and below is the poem mentioned at the beginning of this post: 

God's Garden

THE Lord God planted a garden

In the first white days of the world,

And He set there an angel warden

In a garment of light enfurled.

So near to the peace of Heaven,

That the hawk might nest with the wren,

For there in the cool of the even

God walked with the first of men.

And I dream that these garden-closes

With their shade and their sun-flecked sod

And their lilies and bowers of roses,

Were laid by the hand of God.

The kiss of the sun for pardon,

The song of the birds for mirth,--

One is nearer God's heart in a garden

Than anywhere else on earth.

For He broke it for us in a garden

Under the olive-trees

Where the angel of strength was the warden

And the soul of the world found ease.

Dorothy Frances Gurney