Anticipation's Aftermath

I can’t get over how every week just flies by…

Anticipation spills its lore like flowers spilling bloom

A sky-wide door opens and shuts each summer afternoon

And soon, like pictures in a locket, hearts expand their hold

Grappling where summer unravels Her pockets of silk-gold

Now Trouble finds a foothold, love, now laughter finds our lips

Now Time finds ways of stunning us in spite of her old tricks

And though there is nothing new under heaven we are awed

By haste of dawn to dusk and seed to husk in living’s laud

Chicory, Queen Ann’s Lace and goldenrod strip August bare

As dust stirred by the phantom feet of moments hovers where

The holy bittersweet of it drains into Bygone’s deep

And fists, once full of flowers find a wilted sprig to keep

© Janet Martin

I am constantly dead-heading,

Dumping jars of wilted blooms

To make room for fresh bouquets….

A little like life;

as one season fades

we fill thought-jars

with fresh bouquets

only to turn

and see the husk of anticipation

scattered in its wake…

August-matter

It moves through us in time; invisible

A shadow that startles the skin of things

Want struggles but is ever unable

To gather the dust of its winnowing

Resistance is futile; its wanderlust

Falls prey as afternoon to crooning dusk

And the foot-looseness in us must soft admit

We are far too small for the largeness of It

…that fits in the sigh of green-leaf good-byes

 A sky-blue piñata spills sun-sweet days

And we are distracted by a disguise

Of backyard picnics and bloom-happy ways

Where bare foot tempo etches an echo

That splashes through the middle of Hello

In songs of spilled lemonade and chatter

Fading in the fabric of August-matter

We are subjects to Change; none are immune

Or rare exceptions to time’s timeless laws

A lifelong study can never exhume

The Past from its place or Present to pause

As we, held to a lifetime of learning

Suffer side-effects of deeper yearning

For Time cannot fulfill man’s meager dust

Save Almost, in half-Heavens of August

© Janet Martin

Not Finished Yet

Let's face it; there are days that drain us emotionally, physically, even spiritually 

but God is on his throne while we are here yet never alone...hallelujah!

(yes, those are red leaves....already!!)

We are not finished yet

This thing that God ordained

When He breathed life to you and I

Can leave us vexed and pained

Life’s slip-and-stumble grid

Of get-up-try-again

Carves hunger to a learning curve

That word cannot explain

Time impresses upon

The likes of you and I

The impact of its brevity

As seamless years haste by

And all that we can do

Is never to forget

As long as God grants time anew

We are not finished yet

© Janet Martin

...so we tackle to-do lists that needs must be

and trust God for that which we cannot see...

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Gal.6:9 

Of What We Touch a Moment...

Today is like a canvas,

That unfolds with the dawn

Its moments paint the pictures

That we look back upon

Then move the brush with rev’rence

Handle the page with care

For what passes in moments

Remains forever There

And often thought will wander

That heart-hung gallery

Of what we touch a moment

Then hold eternally

© Janet Martin

I think today calls for a picnic...

the perfect interruption 

to a continuous 'shmozzle' of gardening,

food-prep, 

dirty dishes 

and other daily blessings!

Oh! you're wondering what kind of cookies those are?;-)

These (recipe below) only I substitute oil for the margarine and reduce the amounts of sugar a little.

I missed capturing on camera the moment of little-boy milk mustaches and cookie-crumb beards:)

Morning's Color-world

Across celestial croft

Soft-kissed, night’s mural fades

As newborn day persuades

In Origins aloft

From Master-hands unfurled

A virgin bloom uncurled

To fill the sweep of hill and deep

With morning’s color-world

Have any heard or seen

Time stirred like this before?

Heaven unbars a door

Stars dim within the sheen

Of opportunity

And all that waits to be

As grace anoints what it appoints

To Mercy’s filigree

The wonder of the Lord

Is not a hidden spring

But touches everything

That man cannot afford

Freely His Hand bestows

The tincture to a rose

That fills the air with Welcome where

Morning’s color-world glows

© Janet Martin

Can you check the weather? asked my son before going to work.
Well, I replied, according to the red sky this morning it will rain today.
Aw, that doesn't mean anything, he said, hoping they will harvest grain today...
Well, according to Matthew 16 it does, and I hunted up this passage,

The Pharisees and Sadducees came up, and testing Jesus, they asked Him to show them a sign from heaven. But He replied to them, "When it is evening, you say, 'It will be fair weather, for the sky is red.' "And in the morning, 'There will be a storm today, for the sky is red and threatening.' Do you know how to discern the appearance of the sky, but cannot discern the signs of the times?…

We checked the local forecast. It predicts a 70% chance of thunderstorms today.

A Twilight Love-letter

He dips His quill into a well

Of sky and sea and sod,

And writes, 'with everlasting love,

Your faithful Father, God

With colors that no brush can snare

Where Past's eons increase

He breathes upon dusk's waning air

A twilight masterpiece

Janet Martin

The Mighty One, God, the Lord,
    speaks and summons the earth
    from the rising of the sun to where it sets.

Ps.50:1