Is This All There Is? #2

Is this all there is?
Hope refurbished with hope
Assurances of ‘better days’
As to its void we grope

Is this all there is?
A fleeting day of youth
Before the cold and solemn kiss
Of consequence’s truth

Is this all there is?
A grasping of thin air
Before hands fold upon our chest
In coffins of despair

Is this all there is?
A kaleidoscope of dirt
Chaotic sequences of bliss
And brokenness and hurt

Is this all there is?
A pithy poem or two
Before our painted emptiness
Is stripped for all to view

Is this all there is?
Without our God to trust
Yes, this is all that there would be
A journey back to dust

This is not all there is
Though bodies will decay
They hold within a living soul
That never fades away

Janet~

For God so loved the world
He gave His only Son
That whosoever believes on Him
will not perish
But have eternal Life. John 3:16

Is This all There Is?

http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/2012/01/carry-on-tuesday-141.html



Am I proprietor or slave?
The toil of both lead to the grave,
Do they not?
And is there any merit then
to strive to do the best I can
with what I’ve got?
Or is life but a temporal means
until the swaying ever-greens
weep on my tomb?
The dust of all is equal there
No evidence of wealth or care...
...is death my doom?
and what of all the tears I’ve wept?
Is there any tally kept
Of joy or sorrow?
When the beggar and the king
rest side by side at evening
with no tomorrow
Will one be of greater worth?
or is this life upon the earth
a grand illusion?
A little blip upon a screen
An actor in a random scene
of mass confusion
Is this really all there is?
A journey to vast emptiness
No rhyme or reason?
From the cradle to the grave
Is this the breadth of all we have?
Four quickened seasons?
How dark then, growing old would be
A hastening of futility
To cold, hard sod
Beyond this life is so much more
The grave is but a dust-clad door
That leads to God

Janet~

This is...Winter

This is the hour
Of frozen duress
Waiting for summer
Like a boy for recess

This is the hour
Of frost-gilded limb
Where noon is the whisper
Of day growing dim

This is the hour
Of popcorn and such
Of fire-place gatherings
Instead of the porch

This is the hour
A gardener recollects
The glow of a flower
That spring resurrects

This is the hour
Of mug-warmed finger-tips
Of rosy-cheeked children
Kissed by winter’s lips

This is the hour
Where summer hearts wait
Until spring’s jeweled bower
Closes winter’s gate

Janet~

Brook Song- Part Two...Part 1 below winter-brook poem

Its a collaboration
Of free verse and rhyme
Somnolent, raging
Through pastures of Time
Dormant and dreamy
Then eager and dashing
Flinging its music
Of silver-gray splashing
Across gleaming pebbles
Beneath tree-limb bridges
Rambling, then tumbling
From pine-studded ridges
A glorious master-piece
Lilting composition
Played to the wanderer
Without inhibition
Now chuckling, now whispering
It rises, then dips
A chorus of hope
Pouring from winter's lips
Winding its laughter
Of bubbling mirth
Beneath heaven's rafter
Across the still earth
Through crystalline meadow
And undisturbed nook
Where nothing is moving
Save the song of the brook
Easing the passage
Of winter along
Simple, yet striking
A soul-soothing song
Composed in the recess
Of nature's repose
Unseen Maestro conducting
Its music that flows
From cavern and gully
From woodlands forsook
Winter's redemption
In the song of the brook

Janet

On 'House'-keeping

It’s not all neat and tidy
With everything in place
There are corners that are dirty
It is true, I must confess
And no matter how I plan to keep
A tab on everything
It seems, although I sweep and sweep
It isn’t very clean

Today I stood and looked about
At every unkempt room
The clutter made me want to shout
And grab my trusty broom
But then I heard a still small Voice
Admonishing my threat
As I surveyed fruits of my choice
In heaps of sad regret

I bowed my head in silent shame
Touched by His tenderness
I have only self to blame
For this recurring mess
To keep a life in proper order
Must begin with humble prayer
Asking Him to sweep each corner
Trusting Him with every care

Janet~

The Brook in Winter

It is flowing again

The brook swallowed

By July’s thirsty seeds

Is tumbling; its refrain

Laughing between fallow

And wind-stricken reeds

It rushes once more

Eddying, curving

Through wood-lot and field

From summer’s spent shore

Toward winter’s unnerving

And spring’s verdant yield

Welcome retreat

Flowing to nowhere

From sources unknown

Its melody sweet

Drifts across winter’s air

Un-applauded, alone

Janet~

I stopped yesterday...just for a little bit, to listen to its song.

Winter Rain

It is nothing now
Our entitled grievances
Laid bare,
Rotting
In the spoil
Of all other things
Temporal;
Past.

The hour weeps
Its forlorn river
From the sky
On a mosaic
Desolate and bleak
Like pieces
Of a broken
Heart.

All would be hopeless
Failure our greatest
Achievement
Disappointment
Our legacy
But for one
Eternal hope
Grace

It gleams
From trembling lips
Of a new day
Quivering beneath the horizon
And the river
Flowing from
Winter's down-cast
Eye



Janet~

Winter Rain

It is nothing now

Our entitled grievances

Laid bare,

Rotting

In the spoil

Of all other things

Temporal;

Past.

The hour weeps

Its forlorn river

From the sky

On a mosaic

Desolate and bleak

Like pieces

Of a broken

Heart.

All would be hopeless

Failure our greatest

Achievement

Disappointment

Our legacy

But for one

Eternal hope

Grace

Janet~