Hereafter...

 

Yesterday I had the hilarious pleasure of reading for the first time, the above gem-of-a-book written

 by Dr. Seuss for 'us older/obselete children' 😊

someone suggested at my sister's birthday party it might inspire my poem for today!

In a way it has but unfortunately not with the  

fantastic funny-bone that some fortunate writers are blessed to have;

 For the little I know, this one thing I have learned...
 We cannot thrive unless we work with what God gave us:)

This poem is inspired by bits and pieces of the week-end; 

conversation at my sister's 50th birthday party,

 Emily Dickinson's poetry and

a daughter whose due-date for New Baby is tomorrow!

Who knows what waits hereafter

Where mite-y/mighty moments haste

Will loss have earned the laughter

That gain can never taste

Will sorrow’s badge of honour

Bestow a fuller joy

And press its crown upon Her

Who bore its girl or boy

Will hunger be a blessing

And indulgence a curse

And scars the sacred dressing

Of labor, reimbursed

And will we learn through teaching

As seasons come and go

We are all tall when reaching

And small in What We Know

© Janet Martin

Ah, March, Spring's Preface

In spite of the 'b-r-r-r-risk' beginning to the week we may still feel optimistic
because it's March and sunny today! and we can look forward to temps minus
the minus-dash in front of the digit😁

 ...an expansion of Saturday's poem March Mosaic 

because it barely brushed the surface of Spring's Preface!

 (my, how we welcome those bashful buds that begin to stir in greenhouses and grocery-stores!)

The girth of earth is brown with mud and mirth of winter’s waning tide

A modest panoramic wake of mute and matted countryside

The joy of expectation poised on thatched patchwork of bronze and brass

Waits at a gate with baited breath for innocence of soft green grass

The dark wind wails and waves a wand of pussy-willow pillowed fronds

Where rusty reeds like ragamuffins shiver in ditches and ponds

The bashful bud begins to stir beneath the whisper of a dream

And hope makes dreamers of us all where winter has run out of steam

Anticipation is a gift that keeps the weight of dread at bay

March grants to weathered hearts a lift where blue and gold duels with gray

The distance between here and there excites and invites us to dance

Upon a welcome mat where morning wears the air of first romance

The saucy robins reappears and cheers us with its lusty trill

The kiss of sun is warm and charms the chill of storm to giddy thrill

The pitter-pat of rain-drop splat is like laughter or music-notes

Because we know within its flow a wonder-world of flowers floats

Those white decoys that March deploys is but Jack Frost's noisy retreat

A blust'ring bit of fluff-bluff as gruff ruffians fall to defeat

Where canvases of color throb beneath the somber aftermath

Of gales, as violet-gilded trails emerge to purge death from earth's path

And picnic-baskets find frayed blankets on brook-banks, in meadow-rooms

Ah March, your stiff-starched orderlies sweep out the world with woolly brooms

On battlefields where winter yields but not without one last fierce fling

Ah March, you are the age-old star that leads us from winter to spring

© Janet Martin

March Mosaic...

The snow recedes leaving the impression of earth at low tide...

The girth of earth is brown with mud and mirth of winter’s waning tide

A modest panoramic sweep of mute and matted countryside

The joy of expectation poised on thatched patchwork of bronze and brass

Waits at a gate with baited breath for innocence of soft green grass

The dark wind wails and wakes the wand of pussy-willow pillowed fronds

Where rusty reeds like ragamuffins shiver in ditches and ponds

The bashful bud begins to stir beneath the whisper of a dream

And hope makes dreamers of us all where winter has run out of steam

© Janet Martin

Timeless...

 No matter how long ago a Book was written, when it is Truth it is timeless.

I was marveling to someone how so much of what is written in the book

A Man called Peter is still as relevant today as then...

And then it hit me; because it is truth and truth is Timeless.

No wonder Jesus said, 

Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

Matt. 24:35

Ah, trustworthy Truth with nothing to hide

Where man can find comfort in Time's dogged tide

In a world of confusion and ignorance

Truth flies the banner of deliverance

Truth flies the banner of God's assurance!

This is a page-spread from Peter Marshall's Sermon

The American Dream preached in the late 30's to early or mid-40's

yet seems spoken for today!

 (click on image to enlarge)

Always unhindered

Through summer and winter

Tick-tock’s ready tinder

Kindles steady change

Where future-faced forces

From past-based resources

Cannot thwart the courses

Fools try to derange  

Always unflinching

Through whirling and inching

Unfurling and cinching

Where tides tug and chase

As over and under

And through us the thunder

Of moments woo wonder

New moments replace

Always unmoving

Its evidence proving

In spite of man’s ruling

The matters of fact

Where all else estranges

What all else exchanges

But all of time’s changes

Leaves the truth intact

© Janet Martin

For the Whole American Dream message click here

Of Heart-parts and Footfalls

 Celebrated three birthdays yesterday; 

Always a reminder of Time's precious,swift gift!

No time like the present to make the most of It!

My, the heart can throb with wonder

My the heart can ache with care

My, how it can quake and thunder

As we press it into prayer

My, time’s force of doors is subtle

My, the course of life is brief

Bitty baby kiss and cuddle

Before love’s incumbent grief

My, the matrix of Mere Moment

Steals our breath with death’s approach

Soft its seasons seal and augment

Present where Unknowns encroach

My, the mold that holds soul’s Bearing

Shaping names and frames we hug

Always keeps the heart preparing

For love’s next confounding tug

My, the Time we have is precious

Mortal with Immortal shod

Where the quick of tick-tock ushers

Every footfall back to God

© Janet Martin

Let's Just Wait And See...

So, after getting winter-weary spring-wishers all excited a month ago because they predicted a swift, sudden mid-March spring, forecasters are now predicting a 'slower than expected start to spring in Ontario'! which makes me repeat what I always do when I hear a long-term forcast; 

"let's just wait and see" Today I read that Ontarions can perhaps expect a cooler than normal summer.  A month ago someone told me they heard we might have the hottest summer on record yet! 

I guess we;ll have to wait and see!

Today, BTW, was GORGEOUS!

So I baked Lemon Poppy-seed Muffins...

Below is a delightful few lines from the book Bella Tuscany by Frances Mayes

Oh, let’s just wait and see

To guess at what may be

Is but to miss This Thing That Is

Slipping from you and me

Oh, let’s not fuss and fret

With words like What If, Yet

Let’s raise a cheer for Now and Here’s

Lithe bow and pirouette

Let loving fingers trace

This Very Present grace

Before we hold the ether gold

That softly took its place

So, let’s just smile and nod

As on we press and plod

Let’s make the best of Now’s request

And leave the rest to God

© Janet Martin