O, Canada

“But Mom, if the foundation of anything gets removed, what is built on it will fall”, our teen-age son voiced his concerns as we discussed the moral decline of both Canada and the United States of America.

 

One of my most cherished books is Mr. Jones, Meet the Master.

Below is a sermon Keepers of the Springs, preached in the 1940's by Peter Marshall, and all the more relevant today! (click on images to enlarge for easier reading)

(though preached to Americans its message is equally applicable to Canadians, as is the prayer on the last page!)

Oh, Canada, lest you become

A nation to God’s Presence numb

A nation without thought or prayer

To He who holds us in His care…

O Canada, lest you forget

The Foundation forefathers set

O pray, the God that led them here

Is He whom we choose to revere

O, Canada, still strong and free

How certain your downfall will be

If we reject the Cornerstone

That this country was founded on

O Canada, of cities grand

Fresh-water lakes and rich farmland

Your freedom beckons throngs to come

So they may call Canada ‘Home’

O, Canada, your future waits

Then pray the keepers of its gates

Before we are a land bereft

Will salvage what footing is left

© Janet Martin

We, the people, not the politicians, are the keepers of its gates/springs. 

Pray we accept this charge with holy awe!

Worth It All..To a Summer Day or a Poem

This is the first poem for Poetic Bloomings Poem-a-day Chapbook Prompt .

Prompt taken from the song Summer Breeze.

 Happy July 1st! And Happy Canada Day to those of us in this 'True North Strong and Free'.

For all the expectations that I have from you

You always surprise me with new ways to

Showcase the old

And I know I will never tire of being on the lookout

For fresh arrangements of

Blue-purple-green-gold

The world is filled with kindred spirits

But the trick and the joy

Is discovering them

As long as I live I will never grow weary

Of summer days

Preserved in poem

Darling, come, lets pulls our green-grass chairs

Out to the wide-open

Ink-well fell

And wait to see what old, new arrangements

Transpire.

We never can tell

The flower bouquets we have picked then strewn

To the floor of time’s summer-day

Banquet hall

Makes one glad to be alive where June

Has a way of making winter

Worth it all

© Janet Martin

Thursday Thoughts on Things Time Cannot Change

Time cannot always change

Those things we wish it could

Perhaps it leaves bits of regret

To work for our good

***

Some view Past as a grave stone-cold

That nothing can exhume

While others simply see it as

Fond memory’s living-room

***

The future, none can tell

The Past is set in stone

The only thing worth anything

Is Now before it’s gone

***

Time changes everything given time

But it can never change

One day gone by yet day by day

Things change…now ain’t that strange?

***

Farewell June, hello July

My, how summer hours fly

Soon we will return to sigh

Farewell, farewell, sweet July

***

Sometimes, quite foolishly we wish

For something that is not

Then, while we wish, how sad is this;

We miss the thing we’ve got

***

Time is quite the trickster, oh,

Though it wears no disguise

Invisible, it steals the show

Before our very eyes

***

There will always be more questions

Than we have answers for

God loves to keep us guessing, if

Only to trust Him more

***

Janet~

June dissolved in a blaze of glory!

 

At The Close of June...

 I took a June farewell tour about the yard this morning...

Now summer’s primal flower fades

First green relents to golds and jades

To deeps of dust spring's lure is tossed

Still, nothing in nature is lost

Both tomb and womb, earth cradles Yore

Until Time wills its bloom once more

Soon we forget, for Time is such

Renewing joy beneath its touch

Where one tie binds, another breaks

And sets soft mists on summer lakes

And whets the appetite for tea

Set to the backdrop of blue sea

The loom that weaves Future to past

Grieves and delights earth’s rebel cast

For sight is such a hungry beast

And nature is an endless feast

Thus, though we mourn ‘the passing of’

We find fresh wonderment to love

© Janet Martin

To Our What Is...

What is, is all we have

What was and what will be

Are like horizon-lines and graves

Fruitless futility

What is, is worth our best

What is, is soon what was

As what will be, becomes what is

This sequence does not pause

Therefore, to our What Is

We should commit because

Who knows what What Is waits to be

When this what is, is Was

© Janet Martin