Showing posts with label In memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label In memory. Show all posts

Monday, September 19, 2022

The Lily Blooms Again

 

Inspired by the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II

A few precious passages, familiar to believers
warmed, comforted and exhorted we who remain...

Psalm 103:13-18
As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
14 for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.
15 The life of mortals is like grass,
they flourish like a flower of the field;
16 the wind blows over it and it is gone,
and its place remembers it no more.
17 But from everlasting to everlasting
the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children’s children—
18 with those who keep his covenant
and remember to obey his precepts.

Rev. 21:1-4
Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,”[a
for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,
 and there was no longer any sea. 
2 I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, 
prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.
 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
 “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. 
They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 
4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. 
There will be no more death’[b
or mourning or crying or pain, 
for the old order of things has passed away.”

So many moving images...







The Lily’s bloom is shed
Her crown of glory spent
The scepter falls, as silver thread
Of mortal breath is rent

The Lily’s splendor lies
In funereal repose
Her final flight escapes the eyes
Fixed on life’s curtain-close

The Lily’s beauty bows
Beneath the Hand of He
Whose law is love, whose kingdom flows
Throughout eternity

The Lily’s stem is shorn
Though petals deck the sod
Her darling, deathless Bud is borne
Back to the arms of God

So, though we mourn the loss
Of touch, of sight and sound
The Lily sheds the albatross
Of glory, sorrow-crowned

Where tears will never fall
Where flowers never fade
No roses strewn in farewell’s thrall
As dust to dust is laid

The Lily is not dead
But fairer now than then
In the presence of God instead
The Lily blooms again

© Janet Martin

In memory of Queen Elizabeth II, with love














Friday, April 2, 2021

Yet Hope Lives

 


(my brother's grandson)

In Memory of Cody Troy
August 27, 2019-March 28,2021

Yet Hope Lives

When God reaches down from Heaven
For a child, so sweet and fair
Hearts with sorrow’s pangs are riven
We are tempted to despair
When death claims a life so tender
Grief is raw and tender too
Yet Hope lives as we remember
Where this little angel flew

Safe within the arms of Jesus
Is the little child He lent
For a little while to please us
And make homes and hearts content
Gifting gladness with their laughter
Weaving through grief’s agonies
Fond echoes that linger after
Touch has turned to memories

God ordains our days of passage
Before one has come to be
Some He spares from life’s cruel heartaches
Some must suffer patiently
So, by grace that we are given
We will hope and not despair
When God reaches down from Heaven
For a child so sweet and fair

© Janet Martin

Friday, December 1, 2017

Of Fellow and Fallen Soldiers



 While we drove yesterday, little Miss Three-and-a-half named everything she saw
..."I see a house, a field, a tree etc...
then in a sudden change of tone I heard her say,
"I see a lot of soldiers. Bye soldiers. We miss you"
I looked; we were passing a graveyard.
Something in her 3yr.old mind equated graves with fallen soldiers!
Fitting, isn't it? Life gives all its 'soldiers' battles to fight, some public, some private.
...and on this note happy, happy first day of December! 😀




We smile, groan, gasp and grasp the hands
Of fellow-soldiers, for we know
Alone we fall, allied we stand
As sands of seasons ebb and flow

The tender love that drives us on
Wreaks havoc, oft where none can see
Is often new to you and me

This skin we wear is sure to show
If given time enough, war-scars
They come with hold and letting go
And tasting salty sorrow-stars

We charge beneath the glist’ring sun
And wade through tides of morn to night
Battalion dependent on
Life's Chief Captain for strength and light

…and on we forge through gorge and bog
Where past and future briefly merge
To shape the battlefields agog
With living’s temp’ramental splurge

Before that somber meeting place
When one among our numbers falls
And leaves this force of hope and grace
In response to the Captain’s call

An Ultimate we all will brave
Where dust-to dust is bittersweet
Memorialized around a grave
That marks the resting place for feet

…as The Great Mystery within
Embarks where feet have never trod
When mortal steps out of its skin
And returns to life's Giver;  God

© Janet Martin




In Memory of Gordon James Pringle 



The Armor of God 
Eph.6:10-18
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power.  
Put on the full armor of God, so that you can make your stand against the devil’s schemes.  
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, 
against the powers of this world’s darkness, 
and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
Therefore take up the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, 
you will be able to stand your ground, and having done everything, to stand. 
Stand firm then, with the belt of truth fastened around your waist, 
with the breastplate of righteousness arrayed,
and with your feet fitted with the readiness of the gospel of peace.
In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, 
with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.
And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
Pray in the Spirit at all times, with every kind of prayer and petition. 
To this end, stay alert with all perseverance in your prayers for all the saints.


Saturday, August 5, 2017

Memory's Roses



 

What sacred sympathies
What soothing melodies entwine
As sweet, sweet memories, my love
Keep your heart next to mine

Ah, happiness and grief
Mingle in bitter-sweetest throes
Death’s farewell is so brief, my love
The dark can wear a rose

And though we must let go
We hold on to love’s dearest part
The place where mem’ries flow, my love
And keep us heart to heart

The dark is not unkind
Though vows that bind are severed, oh,
God soothes the heart and mind, my love
Where memory-roses grow

© Janet Martin

Roses at Midnight





How precious were those moments
How dear the common hour
Like buds that gently opened
Into petals of a flower

Love’s laughter was like sunshine
It’s suff’ring like the rain
Its seasons like the rose and thorn
Of life’s pleasure and pain

How hardly we had held them
Before they fell away
Rose petals on a garden
In a world of yesterday

And where there had been laughter
Where rafters rang with cheer
It seemed that ever after
Surely love would wear a tear

The bough of bloom was broken
The loom of gladness rent
Where sorrow was love’s token
Of a lifetime fully spent

But God, so rich in mercy
From petals grace bestows
Stirs from love’s tender mem’ry
The beauty of a rose

From folds of sweetest fragrance
When night is dark and still
The power of mere moments
Performs a miracle

What precious, precious comfort
Fond memories can impart
As roses bloom at midnight
In gardens of the heart

 Janet Martin

Midnight's Rose





There is a bloom that blithely blows
Upon grief’s tomb called Midnight Rose
Dearest by far its fragile form
Beams like a star through sorrow’s storm

It soothes the prick of thorny stem
With ruby-tinted diadem
As echoes from fond days asleep
Return to bloom on midnight’s deep

The air can wear the soul-sweet scent
Where flowered hours came and went
The night is filled with soundless sound
As petals strew Thought’s hallowed ground

Tears cannot wash lost smiles away
Or drown the crown of yesterday
Where oft, softly they reappear
As Midnight Roses draw them near

…and almost we can feel their touch
And presence that we miss so much
Midnight, where rambling roses nod
Cupped in the faithful hand of God

The faithful hand of God, ah this
Is where the crux of comfort IS
With love His compassion bestows
To midnight’s loneliness, a rose

Then pray that nobody forgets
The Bloom that here and now begets
Where, who knows when, its Echo blows
Across the tomb of Midnight’s Rose

© Janet Martin