If We Have Ears To Hear...

A glimpse of today's melody-notes falling and fading!

It's a breath-taking medley of clash-and-meld,

Can you hear it too?

I hope so💗

(so don't just see these pictures, hear them!😊)

'It lilts in lyrics, swing-song sweet... 

(every time Mrs. Swing-pusher takes the teeniest pause

Miss Swing-rider whips her head around to see what's up. lol!!!)

And sparkles in splash aftermath'

...keeping up with these colorful feet is a fulltime percussion piece😄

(doesn't seeing her footwear choice just make your day?!)

If we have ears to hear, my dear,

The melody of land and sea

That sweeps through trees, against the pier

And cheeps in cricket tiralee

That plops from raindrop-wells, aloft

In apples, decking orchard floors

That purrs in fur-balls, kitten-soft

Or in the jungle-kingdom, roars

That giggles from a little girl

And ripples in the silver heath

That tumbles from rock-heights to swirl

And thunder in chasms beneath

That clinks from spoons in mugs or cups

As we stir coffee, fresh-steeped chai

And chat about life’s downs and ups

…hushed in dusk’s deep blue lullaby

That sighs in anthems overhead

As leaf-song crescendos and wanes

Until all that we hear instead

Is pelting sleet on windowpanes

…that buzzes in the bumbling bee

And steals our breath with call of loon 

And drones in August's drowsy tree

As cicadas hail hot high noon

That lilts in lyrics, swing-song sweet

And sparkles in splash aftermath

That thrums in banter of bare feet

That dash down childhood's garden path

That spills in trills from feathered throats

That rolls in deeps across the sand

That broods in misty music-notes

That fold away the day in hand

That rustles in the turn of page

That bustles in work-a-day dash

As tick by tock we earn the wage

That soon settles in dust and ash

If we are given ears to hear

Melodies that make us rejoice 

How terrible, t’would be, my dear

To miss The Author's still small voice

...and never, with devoted tears

Thank Him for living's symphony

So we may taste, if but with ears 

Faint fringes of His majesty 

© Janet Martin

And one little music-splash from yesterday...

2 Kings 19:11-13 BSB

The LORD Speaks to Elijah at Horeb
…11Then the LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD. Behold, the LORD is about to pass by.” And a great and mighty wind tore into the mountains and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. 12After the earthquake there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a still, small voice. 13When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. 

Suddenly a voice came to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”…

These Stairs We Climb (that look like Time)

This blur we call summer trembles with cricket-song

reminding us of words like 'was' and 'so-long'...

Now that's a 'hill of beans'  said Victoria

when she saw today's task on the table this morning😊

We are abundantly blessed with garden-treasure once again!

Thank-you, Lord

Life is offering almost more task than time these days!

By the grace of God and for His glory, 

off we go on another work-a-day adventure!

This thoroughfare of morrows where time’s seasons strew behind

Like harvest dust, rouses in us loss and gain intertwined

The give and take of dusk and daybreak’s easy ebb and flow

Falls through a fleet of hands and feet like little stars of snow

…where we are always learning, yearning, turning older, oh

Where wonder thunders in our veins as nature steals the show

Where we begin to feel the closing in of shadow-sighs

Yet feel like kings where simple things are life’s most treasured prize

The quiet grace of garden spaces soothes the wounds within

The rush of leaves before the sheaves are gleaned and gathered in

The cooing of the mourning dove, the cricket’s cheep-cheep-cheep

Like minstrels in a symphony that lulls the land to sleep

The tender tug as kiss and hug wears holes right through our hearts

Where planting and the granting of its fruit fills more than carts

Where holy is the toll that rolls from east to west until

The hours cease that lend the lease that numbered days fulfill

This more-than-meets-the-eye, hello, good-bye, this touch and taste

Runs through our forms in sparkle-storms of subtle season-haste

Where we will find sweet peace of mind through thick and thin of days

As we commit the whole of it to God in hymns of praise

As we delight in what is right and leave the rest to He

Who sees beyond the flower-frond of our mortality

Where hope and trust are more than dust that settles in the grave

Where stairs we climb that look like Time lead back to He who gave

© Janet Martin

  “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, 

or whatsoever ye do, 

do all to the glory of God.” 

1 Corinthians 10:31.

Remember when time seemed to crawl?

Little Girl is eagerly counting the days till she can be a school-girl!

Me? I want to cry 'slow down'

Let me linger over dinners and dreams!

The Poet's Plight-Fight-Fright-Rite/Write

I cringe beneath the critic's eye

Yet crave honest un-flattery

Lest I should run ink-rivers dry

With shadows of half-poetry

I blush to feel them crush the page

Splattered with pieces of my heart

While learning to embrace the wage

As rejection finetunes the art

I laugh and weep, am lost, then found

Drawn from despair's unholy brink

Toward the Holy Parchment Ground

Of a blank page begging for ink

Janet Martin

For Fishermen of Line and Pen

Then He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

Matt.4:19

The lake we were at a few weeks ago

was dotted with fishing-boats for hours at a time

from first light till dark...

As they trolled for fish I watched from the dock with pen in hand 

and it dawned on me that writing and fishing have a lot in common; 

both require learning patience as we troll the deeps...

This sea gull had a better luck than a few of the fishermen I chatted with...

Time is a little like a pond teeming with want and wish

We, perched on banks of Great Beyond are learning how to fish

The hooks we bait then cast into the deep end of today

Require learning how to wait while we work, watch and pray

Sometimes we get impatient and we start to fret and fuss

Forgetting He who made us often has to wait for us

While we waste ‘bait’ He granted and intended for our good

Because we didn’t have the faith to trust Him like we should

The fish of conquered fears can be as slippery as an eel

And often disappears into a fog of faded zeal

As we dream of The Big One and bait and rebait the hook

Fixated on a vision of just how this fish will look

Lord, make us patient as we troll but never feel a pull

A fisherman tuned to the goal in spite of dreary lull

To bide the placid guise, not disillusioned by desires

But, recognize The Prize is worth the wait ‘fishing’ requires

…until you draw to shore the barge that sailed the seas of Time

Help us be faithful to the charge of hook and bit ‘o line/rhyme

And as you help us from the dinghy, pray you grant this wish

An offering fit for a King; a little string of fish

© Janet Martin

a few more early morning 'passengers'

Mink, I think...

Canada Geese

Dragon Fly

Like a Well Watered Garden

Isaiah 55:1
"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; 

and you without money, come, buy, and eat! 

Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost!

Isaiah 58:11

The LORD will always guide you; He will satisfy you

in a sun-scorched land and strengthen your frame.

You will be like a well-watered garden,

like a spring whose waters never fail.

John 4:14

But whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. 

Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a fount of water 

springing up to eternal life."

John 7:39

He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, 

out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”

Isaiah 12:3
With joy you will draw water from the springs of salvation,

The gardens this year are flourishing

for they have been well-watered!

Hopefully, the garden of our life flourishes also,

well-watered with Living Water 

Come, drink the sinner’s pardon; let faith God’s grace unveil

Like a well-watered garden, like springs that never fail

He pours with kind compassion, redemption to the cursed

Come, partake without ration and quench thy raging thirst

Come, drink and do not tarry where vice and virtue war

Lest the Groom comes to marry and He has barred the door

Come, drink from Living Waters; draw from salvation’s springs

To become sons and daughters of the King of kings

Come now and do not harden your heart with doubt’s dark ploy

Like a well-watered garden, let life flourish with joy

Come without cost or money; drink and be satisfied

For lo, the Groom is coming to gather up His Bride

© Janet Martin

We Are More Than People...

My sister's family went from the house of mourning on Thursday

 to the house of joy on Friday,

My brother-in-law, Father of the bride, 

brother of the man laid to rest the day before

and minister in the Waterloo Markham Mennonite church

opened the wedding service with this verse,

'This is the day the Lord has made.

We will rejoice and be glad in it!'

Psalm 118;24

My niece's wedding yesterday was beautiful.

The bittersweet blend of joy and sorrow

touched the ceremony, rich with profound exhortation from God's Word

reminding us of His order in both marriage and life.

My Uncle, during the ceremony, recounted a day when he went to the clinic

to find out if the cancer-treatments he received helped .

When the Doctor said, 'you are a new man. your cancer is gone!'

his emotional response was 'you have been a vessel in the hands of the Lord. God is good'

Then he went on to say he couldn't help but wonder if his response would have been the

same with a different result. The point he wanted to emphasize is that God is good all the time

in sickness and in health, in joy or grief 

and to remind the young bride and groom (and all of us)

to try to remember this truth, no matter what life brings!

The words 'you have been a vessel in the hands of the Lord' struck a chord!

How often we buzz and bumble through our days

forgetting we are vessels in the hands of the Lord!

When Ananias was called to go and baptize Saul he was confused,

because Saul had persecuted Christians!

 The Lord reminded him in Acts 9:15-16

“Go, for he is a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name 

before Gentiles, kings, and the children[c] of Israel. 

For I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name’s sake.”

Paul, not long after encouraged and exhorted 

believers in the church of Corinth with this reminder;

2 Cor.4:7-11

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, 

to show that the surpassing power 

belongs to God and not to us. 

 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; 

perplexed, but not driven to despair; 

 persecuted, but not forsaken; 

struck down, but not destroyed; 

 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, 

so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. 

 For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, 

 that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.

Lots to ponder as we return to what could seem quite commonplace

if we lose sight of who/what we are!

We are more than jars filled with beans and pickles, 

hallelujah! 😊

We are more than people born to life’s demands

We are vessels cradled in God’s faithful hands

Belief and repentance call us to obey

Where more than allegiance fills these jars of clay

An unfailing treasure; God’s surpassing pow’r

Cascades without measure through man’s fading flow’r

Through Soul’s transient trestles, pours faith’s glorious laud

To we, chosen vessels in the hands of God

Then what holy, true love instills commonplace

As we bear the call of sinners saved by grace

Praise the name of Jesus; by his darkest hour

We are vessels filled with God’s surpassing pow’r

Mercy’s priceless measure meets us where we are

To pour His good treasure into faith’s clay jar

© Janet Martin

A Poem For Trailblazers of a New Day

(sometimes  doggy is just too much! What a lot of laughter she has brought to our lives)

Whether in the lightness that laughter brings

or not, we are cupped in the Hands

of He with whom nothing is impossible

There is nothing new in this poem, 

but somehow even the things we know

need repeating and reminding now and then. 

Wishing you a glorious day!

The dawn of new day flickers where the wick of morn is lit

Where Mercy’s fount is quickened and faith rejoices in it

Where Time plants feet on virgin soil and draws ajar a door

Where none, with lofty dreams or toil has ever been before

Where age-old passions wait to try and disappointment hails

And God still cares for you and I with love that never fails

The birth of what is waiting breaks through gates no latchkey locks

It shimmers on a million lakes and highlights hollyhocks

It glistens in rhinestones of rain and diamonds made of dew

And pours in glorious ‘try again’ to tots like me and you

Where by the good old golden rule we meet our fellowman

And *vow to keep our cool when things don’t go the way we plan

This day the Lord sets free is like a gift to one and all

That grants us opportunity to heed His tender call

Where none have seen or been, therefore nobody can foretell

What good or ill will spill before eventide tolls its bell

But come-what-may of joy or strife, this Truth abides, dear friend

The God who grants this day, this life, is faithful to the end

© Janet Martin

*This fresh morning has already produced a few stresses

with the potential of more to come 

(click link for reason for this potential

because we have a niece getting married today!)😅

...but I am as ready as I can be to help in the

seemingly inevitable mad dash preceding the delight

of planting my derierre on a chair

 and breathing 'we made it, thank-you Lord'!

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, 

 mind is stayed on thee: 

because he trusteth in thee.

Isa.26:3

A Rural Mural (of Ontario's August Countryside)

Ontario's August countryside is lovely to behold.

Landscapes are laid in checkered counterpanes of green and gold

Ditches and creek beds showcase wild-flowered extravagance

Where summer spills its heart in field and garden opulence 

Ontario's August countryside kindles poetic ink

In waist-deep pools of milkweed plumes, magenta and pale pink

In spools and spools of Queen Ann's Lace unrolled in dainty frills

In purple aster rivers, yellow hyssop, vine tendrils   

Ontario's August countryside serves up a wonder-feast

A buffet table groaning with the aftermath of seeds

Inviting us to partake from earth's smorgasbord unfurled

A healthy, hearty helping of nature's joy to the world

Ontario's August countryside is summer's centerfold

A mile-on-mile wide magazine of beauty to behold

Beneath clouds heaped like cauliflower on platters of blue

Page after page is filled with frames to thrill our points of view 

Ontario's August countryside evokes a worship hymn

Stirred by a breeze, harvest-dust-sweet as wheat is gathered in

As gardens become baskets brimming with treasure of fruit

And gardeners feel like dirt-pirates cum-bearing precious loot 

Ontario's August countryside enchants its passenger

Where soon Time claims its dues and shoos us into September 

So look a little longer where the dust of summer flies

Lest we should take for granted what is right before our eyes

...where pasturelands are dappled with cattle, where willows weep

Where leafy awnings toss shadow-piazzas, dark and deep

Where brooks meander, teasing us to slow our quickened stride

Through rural murals of Ontario's August countryside

© Janet Martin