This One Life We Live

 

For not so long ago you were mother's 'wee little man...'

...now she is small and you are tall...

Time has a way of satin-softly slipping by and by

From Saturday to Saturday how oft we say, ‘oh my’

At how swiftly a season spins Saturday’s into years

With laughter-chatter-labor-dinner-supper’s tick-tock spheres

I touch the number seventeen and string it through your name

And cannot quite begin to grasp how suddenly it came

For not so long ago you were mother’s ‘wee little man’

Now she is small and you are tall with tick-tock’s after-span

Nobody knows as birthdays come and go how many wait

Before the surging forward flow of tick-tock spheres abate

Then pray we do not waste the haste of love-and-living laud

For this one life we live is a like a gift from God to God

© Janet Martin

Happy 17th Birthday, Matt.

 How can a young man keep his way pure? By keeping it according to Your word. Ps.119:9

Ready When...

Someday t’will not be ‘he’ or ‘she’

That passes from Time’s Here to There

Someday it will be you or me

Plucked from this mortal thoroughfare

Oh, pray that we are ready when

God calls us from earth’s sons of men

Someday t’will not be ‘them’ and ‘they’

Witnessing life’s Great Mystery

Where death unveils That Untold Way

Someday it will be you and me

Called from the smallness of Time’s Here

Where There will never disappear

Someday, to the blue vaulted dome

Our eyes will close, as we pass through

Because a Father called out, ‘Come’

Someday it will be me or you

Oh, pray before life’s last amen

We know that we are ready when...

© Janet Martin

This morning Arnold who turned 50 exactly a month ago,(see this post for more) heard the call 'come' and he went. Rest in peace, Arnold.Your suffering is done, the battle won. Hallelujah!

Then, When Heaven is a River

 Not to us, LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness.

Ps.115:1

When you come so fresh and

Beaming

From a place we cannot see

On a tide of moments

Streaming

Through our touch to history

It is easy to be

Humbled

By the goodness we embrace

Where, though often we have

Grumbled

God replies with patient Grace

When you draw from depths of

Kindness

That which justice would deny

When Good Morning ushers

Darkness

Softly from the stirring sky

Then, when heaven is a  

River

Pouring rubies to the air

We should bow and thank Time’s

Giver

For the blessing of His care

© Janet Martin

Of Time and Men...Farewell to April

Farewell, my love, until we meet

Again on some far, yonder street

Where we will greet each other then

With that kinship of time and men

…and we will sigh, and say, my, my

Or echo how ‘time sure does fly’

While you resume your vexing flaunt

Of shower, sun and snowy taunt

Come darling, ere the hour is spent

Hold me and hear my last lament

For I have much I long too tell

I am not ready for farewell

Still, I can almost hear the clock

Unbar the door that it will lock

Then kiss me soft, and kiss me slow

While I am learning to let go…

Janet~

I was racing against the clock but she locked April to the past before I could click 'publish!!

Hello, May:)

As I recall, you're a friendly sort

The kind that makes us smile

And forget that we ever wished

April would stay a while

Sunset After Showers

We wander where the fresh-washed world

Is softly being laid to rest

Beneath a velvet sky unfurled

In purple-pearl and coral vest

It is not hard to be content

As rush relents to solitude

Beneath the dimming firmament

Where common creature is subdued

The Hand that holds us unfolds gold

Then pours it on the skyline where

All that we can do is Behold

And marvel at dusk’s painted air

Here on the shore twixt light and dark

Of what was, touching what must be

Time seems a sort of bobbing bark

And we, small sailors on its sea

© Janet Martin