Ignorance's Masquerade

Knowledge gloats, bickers and drivels

When stripped of the Giver’s guide

Wisdom resounds, Heaven's Phoenix

From ashes of Adamic pride

Knowledge makes noise, a student

Never acquiring its goal

Without Wisdom’s divine nature

Infiltrating the Whole

Knowledge, but a battered scepter

In Ignorance’s masquerade

If we deny the Creator

Whereby all things are made

© Janet Martin

No matter how well-learned someone may be, they cannot be aware of the absence of authenticity when an attitude of atheism fails to acknowledge the One whereby all knowledge is given. 

Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance, Prov. 1:5

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction. Prov.1:7

For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. Prov.2:6

Autumnal Madrigal

Now births upon Yon’s beaming stratosphere

The essence of a Presence; Sacred Here

Where earth is smitten with plush quietness

Beneath the rags of summer’s raving tress

Now breaks the captive wake of circumstance

A madrigal of autumnal romance

Nature, the noiseless Victor strips its goal

Where Triumph’s surmount rolls shut like a scroll

Spartan, its overlay of echoes drips

Like Future replayed on foreigner’s lips

Where there is nothing new under the sun

Yet every end is a new Thing begun

Between the forecast and past’s jaded flame

Pursuit and surrender commence, Time’s game

Where the air like a thin blue veil is draped

And tucked across a pale, subdued landscape

© Janet Martin


Then, just for fun I shuffled some lines:)

Now births upon Yon’s beaming stratosphere

Beneath the rags of summer’s raving tress

The essence of a Presence; Sacred Here

Where earth is smitten with plush quietness

Now breaks the captive wake of circumstance

Where Triumph's surmount rolls shut like a scroll

A madrigal of autumnal romance

Nature, the noiseless Victor strips its goal

Spartan, its overlay of echoes drips

Where there is nothing new under the sun

Like Future replayed on foreigner’s lips

For every end is a new Thing begun

Between the forecast and past’s jaded flame

Where the air like a thin blue veil is draped

Pursuit and surrender commence, Time’s game

Plucked, tucked across a pale subdued landscape

© Janet Martin

 

Discovery is Like a Rose...

OctPoWriMo day 18: Things are not always what they seem...

Discovery is like a rose

That breaks the binding of its bud

The light of understanding flows

Through barriers as thick as mud

Then, caught upon a minute trance

Wonder and insight interpose

Defying nettled ignorance

…discovery is like a rose

The eye is but a thoroughfare

Sight is not withheld from the blind

While many look but merely stare

Perception is the sight of mind

Discovery is like its rose

Philistinism, like a tomb

Before cognizance grips the throes

That probes the bud with light, then bloom

Will we believe deception’s lies

Where vision gapes with vanity

And forfeit the mark of the prize

Because we did not learn to see?

Oh, pray we do more than suppose

Or point with blank and wide-eyed stare

Discovery is like a rose

Waiting for us to find God there

© Janet Martin

 Lines in photo from William Blake's poem Auguries of Innocence

The Call of God

From ports beyond the human eye

Blazons a solemn clarion cry

Unveiling scenes ‘neath eyelids closed

Life’s greatest mystery exposed

When that which everyone shall hear

In grand pronouncement will appear

Who can the voice of God eschew?

Tell me, who gathers up the dew?

Rain falls and none can harness it

God calls and none can suppress it

And should day pass with call unmet?

Our charge on earth is not done yet

Truth remains truth; no argument

Can Destiny or God pre-empt

No oath can annul or abort

The promises of Christ the Lord

He holds the scepter in His gaze

Of dust to dust and numbered days

Then let us while Time lends its grace

The truth and love of God embrace

For someday we will all appear

Before the Voice that all will hear

From ports beyond the human eye

Withholding yet, death’s clarion cry

© Janet Martin

We spent most of the day at my husband's uncle's(also my sister's father-in-law)'s funeral today...

He was in his 89th year, remembered and mourned with joy and sorrow. 

The message was one of comfort and admonishment to all who have not heard God's call, 

to make our moments matter and be ready when the call comes because one thing for sure and certain is...it will! 

 We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again.

2 Sam. 14:14