Like A Scarf...

Everything we see is like a scarf 

wrapped around 

More Than Meets the Eye

There's no doubt about it; 

the colour-clock is counting down its tints, 

leaf by leaf, 

like a scarf dismantling

stitch by stitch

Beneath our feet the bittersweet fragments of glory gleam...

The rain drains woodlands of mosaics; scarlet yields to gray 

The wind dwindles leaf-kindled awe as autumn awnings fray 

Beneath our feet the bittersweet fragments of glory gleam 

A little bit like echoes from a fond and altered dream 

The gold that boldly stole our breath while death regaled our view 

With leafy-limbed apparel sketched on backdrops brooding-blue 

Surrenders; for the Splendor cannot keep at bay the toll 

That dismantles tree-mantles like the veil that shrouds the Soul 

Earth’s smorgasbord of beauty is a marvel to behold 

But Time, the tireless Tutor soon reveals more than the mold 

And we who once were deluded by what our eyes applaud 

Become attuned to sums beneath the first-fruits of façade 

The Season-clock is never knocked off-kilter; day by day 

And leaf by leaf and tick by tock Death stalks its primal prey 

Where breath by breath we weave a wreath like leaf or flower-chains 

Till the circle of life falls like a scarf from What Remains

 

© Janet Martin

Soul/Sole Security

Seems fall-lovers here in Ontario

continue to be thrilled to the max by 

an exceptionally colorful version of the season

in what has been an exceptionally trying year!

The picture below is from a photo-poem desk calendar 

I received out of the blue (no birthday or anything) the other year

from my sister; I keep re-enjoying it because there's always pages I've missed or forgotten!

(I think that's why each season never loses its splendor; the missing and forgetting😊)

No matter what season we are in

may it always be a season of prayer,

Because Time is a turbulent tide!

Sickness of body and soul 

and so much beyond our control

insist we choose either faith or fear

to be compass and guide...

Fear flings us into foaming deeps

without a hope or prayer

Faith (even mustard-seed in size) 

is the firm anchor that keeps

us from drowning in despair

We surf a sea of season-tides 

What hides in its momentous deep 

Could keep us from hope’s sheer delight 

And rob us of laughter and sleep 

We bobble between faith and fear 

Because there is no clear-cut course 

Carved through the waves that vault and veer 

And dash us with violent force 

No one can claim clear-sailing grants 

Or tame the turbulence of Test 

Where surf and turf of circumstance 

Is always volatile at best 

Nobody knows what lies ahead 

How then can we find joy and peace 

Fear fills our hearts with doubt and dread 

Where dark the doleful clouds increase 

Faith finds the anchor that abides 

In He who hears each humble prayer 

And cups the sea of season-tides 

And all its ‘surfers’ in His care 

Then since, beyond our control

The toll of time rolls like the sea

Surely the faith that makes us whole

Is our sole/soul security

 

© Janet Martin 

Matthew 8:26
"You of little faith," Jesus replied, "why are you so afraid?" 

Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, 

and it was perfectly calm.

There are SO many seasons in life not marked by a calendar!

For whatever season we are in here's hoping

we have a Friend to weather whatever the weather be...

What a Friend We Have in Jesus

For Watchmen/Women of the Flowered Bower/Bow-er

This poem is an out-pouring of love

 for a world full of children

who begin so purely but must soon and surely 

choose for themselves

who they will serve/trust 

As we who watch for dawn to rend yon regions steeped in dark...

And siphon from the silhouette of trees the singing lark (or harsh shriek of blue jays😀)

...as we who wait for baited bud to break

Alas, perfection cannot keep nature's fiat at bay...

As we who wait for baited bud to break and thus disclose

The essence of a Presence suggested in ev’ry rose 

Alas, perfection cannot keep nature’s fiat at bay 

No matter how pure life begins it is time’s ceaseless prey 

Where influence of elements and matrix of demise 

Will soon convey the evidence of death’s flowery disguise 

As we who watch for dawn to rend yon regions, steeped in dark 

And siphon from the silhouette of trees the singing lark 

Where birth is the beginning of what none can circumvent 

Farewell is always thinning the fabric of Therefore’s tent 

And perception is often blinded by what eyes behold 

Though This is but the catalyst that twists and breaks the mold 

As a mother who keeps account of her forever-child 

Always on earnest guard because this hard world is defiled 

And bent, it seems on robbing dreamers of their innocence 

She prays for mercies multiplied against pride’s ignorance 

Because she knows how swift the petals of the rose adorn 

The sash of dust and ash beneath the branches of the thorn 

We are like gleaners in a field watered with prayers and tears 

Someday faith’s framework will be filled when Majesty appears 

Where roses never falter and the night will never fall 

When Time’s sorrow-stained altar will be crushed once and for all 

As paupers pray for Kindness, as the shepherd tends the lamb 

We watch and work and wait till the Fulfillment of I AM 

For someday every knee will bow and every tongue confess

That He is Lord; the soul will be stripped of its flowered dress

And Righteousness will reign forevermore; no enemy

Where death is not the end of life, nor grave the victory

As we who watch for bud to break or darkness borne away

We pray the more as we approach the coming of That Day

© Janet Martin 

Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. 

He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. 

At that time each will receive their praise from God.

1 Cor.4:5

There Is No Denying This Genesis of Joy

“The world will never starve for want of wonders; 

but only for want of wonder.”

― G.K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles

A  child's joy is so pure!

There is no denying this; Children’s laughter, chatter, kiss 

Reminds us that happiness is not a complicated quest 

Fortune is not found in things; angels are not white with wings 

We can all feel rich as kings if we recognize life’s best 

Wonder is want satisfied; a relinquishing of pride 

As we set ourselves aside, caught off-guard by awe unchecked 

For there’s no denying this; He who authors wonder’s bliss 

Thus orchestrates the genesis of joy without defect 

Want is always on the hunt; at the mercy of the brunt 

Of discontentment’s blunt and insatiable emptiness 

There is no denying this; what a wonder, Wonder IS 

As a glimpse of God surprises us with happiness 

© Janet Martin 

Journey to Deeper Love and Gratitude

The older I get the more real and dear this cry of David becomes:

Psalm 130:1-4

Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;

2 Lord, hear my voice.

Let your ears be attentive

to my cry for mercy.

3 If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,

Lord, who could stand?

4 But with you there is forgiveness,

so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

Give Me Jesus 

Life can be mean when left to means that seem to make first-impulse-sense 

When we react without weighing the impact of the consequence 

We tend to think after the chink in faulty armour is exposed 

Rather than first examine best and worst outcome scenarios 

To test the measure of time’s treasure that slips through us breath by breath 

Is an awak’ning undertaking that could scare us half to death 

Because the laws of cause and effect are not tricked by time or rank 

Where the reaping is in keeping with the kind of seeds we plant 

To think that we can wink at wisdom and somehow not pay the price 

Or that desire is no liar when it ignores sound advice 

Is but to play the fool most truly no matter how cool it seems 

For consequence compensates duly what conscience and choice esteems 

If God kept tally of our folly who could stand and who could pay 

But to repentance he grants pardon and His strength to face the day 

Love incomparable makes bearable the harvest, not subdued 

Obedience, the evidence of love and humble gratitude 

© Janet Martin 

All Fellow-Bumpkins

So much anger,

division, diversion,

strong opinion leading to violence 

instead

of searching the scriptures

(therein lie the answers)

Instead of kneeling

before God

with bowed heart and head

May this be a day where we say little 

and love and pray much!

Where we exchange opinion 

for obedience

anger for grace, 

and gentleness and such

A day when 'love thy neighbor' 

is more than 

The Second-greatest command

May today be a step 

in the right direction

by unclenching fists

and shaking a hand

Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: 

Fear God and keep his commandments, 

for this is the duty of all mankind.

Eccles.12:13

this is me...

home-body, home-maker,

prefer coffee to tea...

 

...but the thing to remember

whether you or me

There's so much more to all of us

than anyone can see!!

What makes you tick 

What makes me tock 

Is varied as 

The streets we walk 

But culture, country, 

Creed or race 

We are all bumpkins 

Of God’s grace 

Some like the beat 

Of city street 

Some seek the 

Solitude of books 

Or lanes or brooks 

Or other nooks 

Beyond the noise 

Of horns and looks 

Tis quite a tousled 

Thoroughfare 

This garden of 

Humanity 

But no matter 

Who, when or where 

The same God cares 

For you and me 

Some of us rich 

Or poor or plain 

Or vain with very 

Fine façade 

But that is quite 

Beside the point 

We are all bumpkins 

Needing God 

This country we 

Call time and place 

Is but a stepping- 

Stone you see 

Before God reaches 

Down and plucks 

Us from here

To eternity 

Some roll with life’s 

Punches, some hide 

Some deny Truth 

And think they win 

But we, all bumpkins 

God-designed 

Cannot escape 

The soul within 

So whether loud 

Or shy or proud 

Or meek, small, tall 

Weak, strong, mean, kind 

We have one thing 

In common, dear 

All fellow-bumpkins 

God designed 

© Janet Martin

...so hello, fellow bumpkin😁

Deep-into-October Tableau or October on a Blue-gray Afternoon

 

Written in honour of this brooding, blue-gray deep-into-October afternoon

The garden has yielded its final gem 

The tree relinquishes its diadem 

The field is shorn where corn and barley gleamed 

Like gold and silver lakes as sunshine streamed 

Through a flue, gold and blue to mist-kissed piers 

The lily-dappled mead has shed its tears 

And summer like a picnic counterpane 

Is shaken out and folded up again 

The flower wonderland I dearly prized 

Where I would linger, petal-mesmerized 

Is stark and still, its thrill of grandeur spent 

Reminding me that all we have is lent 

The decanter of warmer days is drained 

The cricket melody gradually waned 

Until even the scattered cadence thinned 

And all I hear now is the brooding wind 

The chubby junco bobs among the leaves 

Quite unaware that these are autumn’s sheaves 

I wander without reason through bloom's wake 

How can such sweetness rouse such a raw ache 

Where fallow turns to furrow ‘neath the plow 

Where all we ever have is here and now 

Where we are torn between sorrow and awe 

Where earth seems so at peace with Nature’s Law 

October on a blue-gray afternoon 

Is like a bit of heaven gone too soon 

Each tree crowned in a halo, russet-bronze 

That drips and slips until the big sky yawns 

Through branches stark-naked and bold 

Etched in gnarled splendor for all to behold 

And a rush, sort of like a sudden sea 

Surges through us in spellbound sympathy 

I take my tea outside to watch the show 

The slow unraveling of red-yellow 

While dusk drops deep blue tints above yon hill 

A hint of woodsmoke wafts upon the chill 

And I am fully glad and sad at once 

Where October is a flickering sconce 

Set like a centerpiece on a buffet 

Of colour turning burnished brown and gray 

© Janet Martin 

Resounding Praise for Abounding Love

Psalm 103:1

The LORD works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed.

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. 

he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. 

as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

Psalm 130:3-4

If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,

Lord, who could stand?

But with you there is forgiveness,

so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

May our outlook always be an up-look!

The scenery changes with the season...

but never the Reason of hope!

The valley of reflection can feel cold and dark and wet 

It steals the light of laughter if we linger there too long 

The weight of condemnation can crush us with sad regret 

If we forget that God forgives and helps us carry on 

This is the day that He has made to look ahead, not back 

To walk upon the stepping-stones we stumbled on before 

To be aware of what we have in spite of all we lack 

God’s grace always sufficient for whatever lies in store 

Futile to dwell where we can never alter what is done 

Better to focus on the mercy of this present morn 

For He forgives the sinner through the merit of his Son 

As far as east is from the west, man’s transgression is borne 

Then when the deceiver attempts to drag us to a pit 

Of doubt and dark despair remember He who loves us so 

His kindness and compassion do not recount our debt 

But only sees the perfect grace He grants whereby we go 

His love abounds and metes the grounds for peace and happiness 

If we ask he will give and if we seek him we will find 

He is faithful and just and forgives us if we confess 

Then pray we live to love him with heart, soul and strength and mind 

For HE IS, WAS and WILL BE faithful, changeless, GREAT I AM

Ah, what is man that God is mindful of mortal at all

And yet for man He gave His Son to be the slaughtered Lamb

And save all who believe from that which sin conceived; the fall

Therefore no valley of despair is deep or dark enough

To hide us from the One who sees exactly where we are

For nothing can separate us from His abounding love

Ah, look! the hand that holds us bears love's signature, a scar

© Janet Martin