August Listening Lessons

 Some snap-shots of August-song...

Oh, listen to cicada’s drone in noon-day’s wilting heat

And listen to the cricket’s multi-layered tweet-tweet-tweet

Or pause to hear the corn stalk guzzling dew from musky grail

Cherry tomatoes plopping from small fingers into pail

The scritch and scratch of sidewalk-chalked pictures from young-at-art

The pulsing propellers of hummingbird's hover-and-dart

Cherubic dove-like coo wafts on the banter of a breeze

Where we play peek-a-boo with Baby 'neath leaf-canopies  

The splash of silver diamonds lobbed where water-fountain sprays

The shriek of youngsters not yet robbed of childhood’s endless days

The buzz of bumbling bee tumbling from rose to hollyhock

The slap and lap of ripples where the lake tickles the dock

The sweep of golden grain field as it bends with harvest-hymn

The cheep of birdie as it flits from sighing limb to limb

The lusty crow that ha-ha-has from perch in lofty pine

The whisper of wind-pixies playing in the pole-bean vine

The joyous whoop of laughter when the fisher gets the fish

The laden line where laundry musters lazy, hazy swish

A cackling group of grackles catching up on latest ‘yack’

Then, feather-soft whooshed lift-off in a flutter-cloud of black

The combine as it whirs and purrs and belches dusty stars

The heat-wave crinkled highway’s swooshing ribbon made of cars

The oohing over goblets, paper-thin that turn to squash

The crooning afternoon that soon the tune of dusk will quash 

Oh, listen to the pitter-patter of bare feet and rain

The glad and easy chatter as we stroll down bloom-lined lane

Oh, listen to the songs of August minstrels as they race

Across keyboards of mallow, golden rod and Queen Ann’s lace

Oh, listen,;can you hear a subtle change of harmony

As What Is starts to hint at musicales Waiting To Be

© Janet Martin

So much music to enjoy in August!

Happiness Worth Living

Oh God, what hidden splendour

Presses against the gates

Where in buds of surrender

Full bloom of blessing waits

The heart is like a bower

That cannot bloom until

We submit to the Power

Of the Creator’s will

Then when Heart yields its hardness

The bud begins to brim

Unfolding from the darkness

The glorious Light of Him

Where what we thought we wanted

Falls like a withered leaf

After the seed God planted

(or, after the will God granted)

Surrenders to its Chief

…and finds within love’s giving

Life’s beauty, sweet and kind

Where happiness worth living

Keeps others first in mind

© Janet Martin

 If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, 

I am only a ringing gong or a clanging cymbal.

 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, 

and if I have absolute faith so as to move mountains, 

but have not love, I am nothing.

If I give all I possess to the poor and exult in the surrender of my body, 

  but have not love, I gain nothing. 

1 Cor.13:1-3

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or empty pride, 

but in humility consider others more important than yourselves.

Each of you should look not only to your own interests,

 but also to the interests of others. 

Phil. 2:3-4 

I know I shared this song recently but in my own life /love

it bears replaying/repeating!

Monday Morning Mantra/Supplication

This poem is raised to the Creator and Keeper of heaven and earth...

Lord, today lead love’s mission

And guard our flight of thought

Let hope not lose its vision

No matter what our lot

Help us weigh ‘good intention'

In the scale of Thy Word

Lest foibles of invention

Would leave discernment blurred

Lord, guide us through the meadows

Or valleys dark with test

Let us not hide in shadows

Of guilt and shame confessed

But beam through us Thy light, Lord

For all the world to see

And train our faith, not sight Lord

To meekly wait on Thee

Lord, kind Thy love that watches

Our blind and worried ways

Lord, while impatience pushes

You wait for our praise

To temper in pride’s bearing

A heart of gratitude

To prove Thy faithful caring

As self-will is subdued

Lord, let us cling like children

To Mercy’s nail-scarred Hand

And trust Divine Decision

When we don’t understand

Lord, keen Thy whisper in us

Until first impulse bows

And trusts Thee for the purpose

In what Thy love allows

Amen

© Janet Martin

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand,
so that in due time He may exalt you.
 Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.

1 Peter 5:6-7

Lest We Overlook The Giver

 Last Saturday night at a tractor-pull some let the full brunt of the 'music'

screech through them while others chose to 'protect' themselves a little...

 

Lest the well that dreams are drawn from fills with lifeless dust and ash

Lest a soulful swell of sorrow snuffs the sparkle from the splash

Lest a holy Heaven-hunger does not keen hope’s humble cheer

Lest no more than what we had and held comforts the mourner’s tear

Lest the dread of death is greater than life’s hearty appetite

Lest the weight of worry suffocates what wonder would delight

(Plant a garden)

Lest the Reason for the season seems as futile as the wind

Lacking passion for the ration of what no one can rescind

Lest we lose, not merely moments, but the gaping gate it grants

Let’s keep eyes and ears wide open to the music of the dance

Let’s choose love and glad thanksgiving over hours set adrift

Lest we overlook the Present and the Giver of its gift

(Like a garden)

© Janet Martin

I added the 'garden' bit as a personal joy-bell-ringer😊. 

Feel free to change that line to whatever rings yours.

other option for me besides 'plant a garden' would be (in purely random order)

'pour a coffee'

'write/read a poem'

'hold a baby or toddler'

'ride a bike'

'read a book/Book'

'find a brook'

...and so on, lest we let a spent season snuff the melody from the moment at hand!

For some, believe it or not, their joy-bell ringer is a tractor-pull!