Saturday, March 31, 2012

An Interview with You, my Love

You slip your fingers intimately
Through mine
For you know what I am thinking
By the hint of a smile
In the darkness
Between us
Is it an inch
Or ten-thousand miles?
Is there a difference?
For when it comes to love…
…to you,
There are no empty spaces
They are full of love
And  thoughts
Of love
The greater the distance then,
The greater the love,
But no,
For I love you completely
And in its completeness
There can be no increase
Or decrease


A Prayer...

You have searched me oh Lord and you know me
My shameful, vile innermost thought
But You love me still in spite of my ill
And cover my guilt with your blood

I cannot flee from Your presence
Though sadly, I admit that I’ve tried
When my guilt and my shame burdened me with self-blame
You placed Your grace o’er my pride

Lord, give me a heart of discernment
So I may hold fast to the right
Teach me your way and help me to obey
For You are the Way, Truth and Light

© Janet Martin

Winter's Farewell Tear

They fall tonight, like desperate tears
A pleading dance of woe 
Until the violet disappears
'neath frazzled flakes of snow
And all the verdure of first spring
Is blanketed in white
As winter, with a final fling
Muffles the countryside

The tender face of new-born leaf  
Shivers upon the limb
As overtures of winter grief
Falls on kind ears of spring
‘Be gone, ye fretting tide of chill
Each season hath its day
And though I bid to thee no ill
I cannot bid thee stay’

They fall tonight, the frozen tears
Of unrequited love
For none can halt the flow of years
That rolls from ports above
Beneath the snow the violet sleeps
At dawn the sun will smile
And melt the coat that winter weeps
Upon springs emerald isle

© Janet Martin

Winter made a desperate attempt to return last night,
Only to melt away in the morning sun

Gathered Wealth

Gather your treasure
Do not wait till the morrow
To tally the measure
Of laughter and sorrow

Gather your treasure
Not in dollars and cents
But in the grand pleasure
Of simple events

Toss to the breezes
Your gathered despair
The darling wind teases
The soft morning air

 Gather your treasure
For time's temporal  strand
Dissolves in a moment
Like waves on the sand

Then gather the treasure
Of sapphire and gold
The sun on the water
The sea in its hold

The gaze of a loved one
The sparkle of joy
Dancing in freedom
Of wee girls and boys

Gather your treasure
Not in earthen parts
But kept in the measure
Of love’s thankful heart

© Janet Martin

Friday, March 30, 2012

When All that is Missing is Your Body Next to Mine...

As empty as a faithless prayer
Is midnight’s dark and naked air
Sheer will alone cannot replace
The haunting void of emptiness
Ephemeral want restricts clear thought
When all I know is what is not
But still I feel your absence near
Quiet observer of my tear

To drift upon a hapless wave
Is to lie early in death’s grave
The body is a transient shell
Where longing and fulfillment dwell
And whether you are far or near
It does not really matter, dear
For I hold love’s most sacred part
Within the sanctum of my heart

© Janet Martin

Written for IGWRT prompt: Bodies...

Shaping Heritage...

Dear Mother and Daddy
We hold in our grip
More than the turning of page
But in every moment
As softly they slip
We shape our child’s heritage

Dear Mother and Daddy
What do they observe
As they adapt our attitude?
Do they learn to trust beyond
Life’s startling curve
And know that God is good?

Dear Mother and Daddy
We cannot change
The sorrows that lay in the earth
But for our children
We can begin
A heritage of invaluable worth

Dear Mother and Daddy
Show them the stars
Point to the unfolding bloom
For as you do
You will stir in their hearts
The wonder of God’s living-room

Dear Mother and Daddy
One day at a time
Is given to learn and to teach
As God leads the way
He will teach us to climb
And attain what seems out of reach

© Janet Martin

Awhile ago I posted a poem with a footnote telling of how I opened my mouth to show them the moon…
And then shut it, thinking the kids didn’t really care how big and beautiful it was…a few comments reminded me to tell them anyway, because it will teach them to see, even if they don’t seem mightily impressed at the time. Someday they will remember, and understand.
Teach them to see God in life’s ordinary miracles!
p.s. is ordinary miracles an oxy-moron? 

I thanked God... as they boarded the bus, for the gift of watching this miracle....every school morning I have been given the health and ability for 15 years to watch and wave...

I was stirred anew when I read this: at Lilacs and Lavender just now...realizing how crucial, quick and precious those pre-school years are...

I borrowed this quote from Megan as well...

"It often happens to children
and sometimes to gardeners
that they are given gifts of value
of which they do not perceive
until much later."

~ Wayne Winterrowd ~

Phantom Dancer

Of all galactic establishments
You chose earth
On which to place your feet and dance
Its stricken girth
I stayed up to watch for you
But never saw you pass
And yet, you left a silver shoe
On every blade of grass


Gift of Infinite Compassion

Armed with the valor of new hope
Dawn sweeps the stringent sky
Outlining limb and darkened slope
‘gainst heaven’s waking eye
It spreads in victory certain
Up to the vaulted blue
And rends the heavy curtain
And bids the night adieu

As surely as God’s keeping
As surely as His word
As sure as every season
The pulse of life is stirred
To wake above, new morning
To nudge beneath, the seeds
As spring-time’s grand adorning
Its awesome Maker heeds

Armed with the surety of God’s care
We view this virgin day
Breaking across the atmosphere
In dawn’s perfect array
As we, earth’s vilest creature
Touch Mercy’s unmarred face
Trusting fair nature's Teacher
And God’s amazing grace

© Janet Martin

It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. Lam. 3: 22-23

Perfect Timing...

Come to me
Not when the night has sealed its lips
But when the day laughs
In the mouth of the lilting sky
Then my fingertips will not ache so
To hold you
As I pluck the bloom from its stem
And brush the lock
From out of your eager


Ineptness of Ink

What is this raw and raging thirst?
This graven enemy
That sets itself against my words
And makes a fool of me

What is this savage, silent plea
That rages ‘neath my skin
And claims the very heart of me
In torment deep within

What is this strange and soulful dirge
That mourns the quickened dark
Tracing the tide where echoes surge
Yet never leave a mark

What is this lonesome melody
That whispers in my quill
It is the frozen agony
Ink teardrops cannot spill


Thursday, March 29, 2012

The River...

There is a river flowing
Not through earth’s pasture-land
Where buttercups are blowing
And shores are made of sand

There is a river gleaming
Not with slow, silver tide
Where now we lie a-dreaming
Against our lover’s side

There is a river running
No isle of barefoot bliss
Where summer-hearts are sunning
And old hearts reminisce

There is a river winding
Not through the tumbled grass
Nor ‘gainst the earthen binding
That holds its waters fast

There is a river roaring
Into a boundless sea
Its rushing waters pouring
Into eternity

There is a river passing
Twixt earth and Heaven's shore
Our final, farewell crossing

© Janet Martin

On Acceptance...

We may fight with denial
Life’s immutable facts
And suffer them bitterly
Or we can stand tall
Admit and accept
Life’s imperfect things that must be

We cannot escape
What God allows
And if we fight stubbornly
We cannot improve
The here and now
By what we refuse to see

Acceptance of weakness
Is not an excuse
For mindless apathy
But it is the first step
We must choose
To find hope’s possibility

© Janet Martin

Are you brave enough to say it?
Those first words toward making our worst our best…
To say ‘I accept the fact that…
I am sick…
I am addicted to….
I am an alcoholic…
I am not in love with my spouse…
I am angry because…
I am jealous…
I am greedy…
I am afraid…
I am depressed…
God, I am weak…help me

Dearest Memory

A table is just a table
A humble plank of wood
When it has been cleared of dishes
And every crumb of food

But oh, if you could borrow
My mind’s eye for a while
To play back what I’m viewing
I know that you would smile

Is there a memory dearer
Or a song with sweeter sound
Than a table set for dinner
With a family gathered 'round?

© Janet Martin

This was pre-lunch, before the dessert did a landslide;)) and I forgot to take anymore pictures
because we were having a good time;(

Swiftly, Silently

The rush of the seasons
Makes nary a sound
Yet, suddenly spring is upon us
Be careful. Lest slowly you turn around
To see autumn’s sweeping chorus

A gathering of bread,
A labor of spoil
The swift, silent night of slumber
Live well thy moment
Of pleasure and toil
for each of man’s days has a number

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Psalms 90:12

Long After...

Would be nothing more
Than cold, clinking silver and china
But the anticipation
Of what lays in store
I can think of nothing finer
Than the gathering
Of family,
A circle of friends
Sharing the food and the laughter
For even though
All special times must end
The memories still cheer us
Long after


My mother and sisters are coming to lunch!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012


Beneath the umbrella
Of sunlight or star
Of noon, mellow yellow
Or moon, faint and far
The moment-streams trickle
Across centuries
And what we put in them
Are Time’s legacies

Beneath azure canopy
Or midnight’s sweet dream
Rivers of primrose
And anemone gleam
Only to wither
As all nature must
Back to its birthplace
In cradles of dust

Beneath tumbled portals
Of cloud-schooner fleet
Is the journey of mortals
And the moments we meet
Above this umbrella
Of undefined scope
Is the end or all moments
…and man’s living Hope

© Janet Martin

Taking Chances

A heart, a heart
Such a fragile thing
A risk to give away
And yet we share
It bit by bit
In pieces,
Every day

A heart, a heart
Such a tender thing
Once broken,
Never quite the same
But we cannot love
And keep hearts intact
So we love
And love again

A heart, a heart
Such a treasure-chest
And oh,
What riches it holds
The memory of whispers
And smiles; a kiss
More priceless
Than rivers of gold

A heart, a heart
It comes apart
But oh,
Time heals again
So live and laugh
And love
…and lose
We never love in vain


Of Deathly Silences

If we flung down our pens
Would anyone care
If beckoning whispers
Remained a-drift on the air?
Would it be missed
Those words never penned?
Would the wind be content
To be nothing but wind?
No low-flung melody,
Or cantankerous tone
No moody company
When we are alone
And all of the music
Which poets have sought
Would simply remain
In a casket of thought
If we flung down our pens
Would anyone care?
As agony drifts
On the tear-spangled air
And all of our want
And all of our need
Would endlessly taunt
And never would bleed
From hearts to fingers-tips
And from finger to page
From page to soft lips
on a distant stage
But the air would remain
A tightly-sealed hold
Of deathly silences
Hungry and cold

© Janet Martin

I just finished reading mike's interview on Poetic Bloomings,
and Laurie's interview on Poet's United,
 and it struck me how poet's and poetry
 are so vastly different yet hold a kindred distinction!

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Poem-lets on The Unknown...

Image source:

We cannot see the Unknown
It looms, dark and large
But we are not alone
And God is in charge

What lies ahead?
We cannot tell
But with God at the lead
It will be well


The unknown persists
An unyielding sky
But mankind exists
Beneath God's watchful eye


My faith is scarce
Half a mustard seed
But God knows and cares
For every need


The Unknown presides
But one thing I know
God’s Presence abides
Wherever I go

© Janet Martin

Psalms 139
4 Before a word is on my tongue
   you, LORD, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
   and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
   too lofty for me to attain...

 23 Search me, God, and know my heart;
   test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
   and lead me in the way everlasting.

Time's Minuet

 Image Source:

Boccherini - Minuet

 Click on above link with wheel of your mouse)

 The hemlock and pine strum the sky as a lyre
On darkness encroaching dusk’s vulnerable air
Over the land dips a somnolent brush
Another day slips from earth’s slate in night’s hush
As skylines dissolve in the mouth of the sky
And wind-songs evolve to a slow lullaby
Whilst over Time’s silvery edges I hear
The whisper of moments as they disappear

Midnight’s troubadour moans, on transient bend
In amalgamation of beginning and end
As tomorrow becomes what yesterday was
And present succumbs to past’s deepening pause
While oceans of living and loving and lust
Pour into eons of ashes and dust
And still ever hastening days become years
As moment on moment a life disappears

Where is the piper; the sound of the flute?
Strike now the timbrel, ere laughing turns mute
Dance as the violin’s quivering lay
Pines on the moments yet slipping away
See how the Maestro directs this grand choir?
Of moments and memories, dreams and desire
Fleet foot of passion and prayer pirouette
Over the garden to Time’s minuet

© Janet Martin

Happy Birthday Lucy...may you enjoy life's dance!

Monday, March 26, 2012

Earth's Treasure-chest

The pearl of noon’s raindrop bedazzling the grass
The diamond of dew on frothed meadows of glass
A halo of gold in dawn’s warm, gleaming crown
Soft amethyst fold in still evening’s night-gown
The silver of mist as it drapes on earth’s slope
The sapphire bliss of July’s calliope
The jade and the onyx of fir tree and pine
The ruby that spills from the bud on the vine
The garnet of lips, kissing and smiling
The moonstone of cloud-ships and lilies beguiling
The opal of rainbow, the topaz of your gaze
The emerald flow of  fresh, summer-sweet days...
...I may be a beggar, yet rich as a king
As I behold treasures of nature's fair things

© Janet Martin


There will be…
A sharp, dry 'sense'
Lodged in my throat
and eyes...
...Nothing new
Yet still intense
Love’s pleading compromise

 And there will be
Soft whispered prayers
As I reach to the moon
Amidst the flow
Of thought and tears
And parting
Way too soon

…and there will be
The ‘what if’s’ and the ‘why’s
Within my soul
The ocean’s roar
Within my ear
Your sighs

Oh, there will be
Until we meet
A cruel and kind delight
To know love’s memory
Sleeps with me every night


Shadows on a Wall...attempt #2

Poetic Bloomings Picture Prompt

It isn't so much
 the 'not dancing'
that hurts,
but the parting of ways

it isn't the silence
that drives me mad
It's the echo
of lost yesterdays


While They Debate...

Impatience tells me I can’t wait
And Patience says I must
So while they argue and debate
…all I can do is trust


Sonnet of Wonderment

When I consider the work of Thy hands
The planets in flawless precision laid
The order of seasons startling earth's sands
The force of oceans at shorelines contained…
When I consider the scope of Thy plan
How Thought void of Time placed existence therein
And how it encompassed the falling of man
With One all-supreme sacrifice for sin
I cease my babble; for I cannot grasp
Even a shadow of fullness so vast

When I consider the gift of Thy Son
The crown of vile thorns on Love’s sacred brow
How rivers of mercy and redemption run
As cries of doom ‘neath deliverance bow
To speak my amazement, I am at loss
As I contemplate my pardon, blood-bought
For when I consider man’s hope at the cross
Only grateful tears can utter my thought
What is man, this sinful creature of dust?
That Heaven’s perfect Lamb should die for us?

When I think of boundless eternity
How time-yoked minds cannot fathom its breadth
And then I compare infinity
To God’s grace and compassion beyond height or depth
I cry, oh my God, where can I begin
To comprehend a perfect Love so deep?
I hear a Voice whispering from within
Do you love me? Then will you feed my sheep?
I think of how one drop of His blood sets us free
And cry, yes my Lord be it unto me'

© Janet Martin

 When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” 
With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.John 19:30

The Sum of it All

Poetic Bloomings Picture Prompt: shadows Dancing on a Wall

Somehow we knew
Even as we held each other
And danced that final dance
That it was good-bye
Even as life insisted on broadening
The past
And even as hope persisted
In holding its memory fast
We knew the sum of it all
and the best we can recall
are two
dancing on a wall



I Am Strong...

I’m not that strong
The road ahead
Is fraught with the unknown
It seeks to twist
My mind with dread
And turn my joy to stone

I’m not that strong
I cannot hold
The weight of sinful seed
Or with my shallow
will unfold
the strength and hope I need

I’m not that strong
But there is One
Who takes my fumbling thought
And reminds me
that He is strong
even when I’m not

© Janet Martin

…and He said unto me;
My grace is sufficient for thee;
My strength is made perfect in weakness.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Touching You~

I touch you with words
They are all that I have
For you are too far from me
Words in my thought
Words in my prayer
And words in my memory

I touch you with words
reluctant compromise
But oh, what a solace they bring
Words in a sonnet
Words in a poem
Echo of words...whispering

Janet Martin

Sonnet of Vexation...Sunday Whirl

Thought sweeps over me that I cannot bear
Grief’s alchemist sports a merciless craft
as supple portions of angst and despair
overtake tender joy where we loved and laughed
Its acumen probes with acid reproof
Bitter tears; the juices of deep regret
My sprinkled conscience is standing aloof
I cannot gauge twist my heart and my head
what leads to goodness or to plundered spoil
for your words are sweet as honey and oil


Saturday, March 24, 2012

Why Rolling-pins?

(this photo contains my smallest rolling pin and a few that I wish could talk;)

Why rolling pins?
They ask me,
intrigued as they count all 120 plus...
I smile and tell them
Well, because someday someone will ask
'Remember so-and-so's mom?'
and you will say 'no'
but then they will say,
'you know, the lady with all the rolling pins?'
and then you will laugh and say
oh! yes, I do!'

Why rolling pins?
I'm not sure,
 but there's something
solid and simple about them,
like me,
my values...
I like the images they conjure,
fresh pie
hungry, eager children.
I look at the old battered one
and wish it could talk.
Did a loving young man carve it for his bride?
Did it ride a covered wagon
fiord streams,
finally to end up
in their first home in Canada?
Did it quietly perform,
helping a weary housewife rid herself of frustrations
she would never speak?
Did it get wielded overhead
as erring children fled,
or the dog with his nose in the stew?

I like the feel of a rolling pin in my hand.
Wooden dependability and
calming, in its back and forth motion
as I roll the pastry,


...and Laurie K.
on my other rolling pin post you asked if this means I like to bake...
I do:)
on some days:)


Image Source:

My pulse quickens
Adrenaline rush
Gathers my thought
In a sudden hush
As a ladder of moments
Stretched to the blue
Is leading me ever
Closer to You


Friday, March 23, 2012

Acknowledgments... linked to Skywatch Friday

linked to Skywatch Friday
The wind bends the air in mutinous growls
Pushing the sparrow back into its nest
Yesterday’s sunshine is swallowed by scowls
Muttered from thunder-clouds low on the west

The slack grin of leisure has furrowed its brow
Purpose of plundering rides on the gale
As shutters flung open are bolted now
Respectful of nature’s preeminent wail

Elements rumble beyond man’s control
Over the delicate measure of thought
Fully aware of the vulnerable whole
In every achievement that human has wrought

Fragments of wistfulness cling to the arm
That gives and takes in a flash on the sod
As nature unleashes its wrath in a storm
Mankind acknowledges his dependence on God

© Janet Martin

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Oh, Won't That Be Something...

What A Day that Will Be

Oh, won’t that be something when He plucks the veil
From our haggard earth-dimmed view
When visions of sickness and sorrow grow pale
In Heaven’s immortal hue
Oh, won’t that be something when we touch our feet
Not on this world’s broken sod
But skimming the surface of golden streets
Into the arms of God?

Oh, won’t that be something when we fly beyond
The sunset that borders the west
And all of our weeping and groaning is gone
In that promised land of rest
Oh, won’t that be something when we lay aside
This mortal body of dust
As we look to see gleaming gates swinging wide
Where treasure will never rust

Oh, won’t that be something when He takes our hand
Though wretched and poor it may be
When we hear the words, ‘good and faithful servant
I have a mansion for thee’
Oh, won’t that be something when we fall before
The throne of the heavenly King
And we praise our Savior forevermore
As ageless eternities wing

© Janet Martin

All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.
John 6:37

In the birthday poem below Mary left a comment that really got me thinking...


They say the sun can’t talk at all
But oh, today I heard her call
From oceans of cerulean sky
She cajoled me with her eye
Right through the window to my chore
Until; she drew me through the door
And led me over emerald scape
We danced, I lay against the cape
She spread across the fragrant earth
I drank the sun-warmed wine of mirth
As purple-petal meditation
Lent a sweet intoxication
In the arms of new-born flowers
Who dares tally pithy hours?
For I must see the wee bud wake
Nudging its shell until it breaks
And I must see the leaf begin
A tiny flower on a limb
And I must hear the trill of lark
I cannot wait until its dark
For then the sun has slipped away
And I would miss what she would say
…they say the sun can’t talk at all
But I know I heard her call
What she said I'll never tell
He only hears, who listens well

© Janet Martin

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!


Birthday Poem

A birthday is a precious gift
It comes from up above
As God continues to grant life
In faithfulness and love

A birthday is a gracious gift
To which naught can compare
We lift our hope and praise to Him
And trust His tender care

A birthday is a joyous gift
Of God’s goodness and grace
Each one a stepping-stone toward
Our final resting-place

A birthday is a treasured gift
That only God delivers
We lift our hearts as we receive
And humbly thank the Giver

© Janet Martin

Man's days are determined; 
you have decreed the number of his months 
and have set limits he cannot exceed. Job 14:5

My Strength

My weaknesses would fill the sky
My strength is one small word
Though weaknesses may multiply
My strength is in the Lord

© Janet Martin

 The LORD is my strength and my shield; 
my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. 
My heart leaps for joy 
and I will give thanks to him in song. Psalm 28:7

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Inexorable Lullaby

The Colors of Claude Monet - By Licht courtesy

It slithers from the willow limb
Entwined in lambent sigh
Of hollow midnight diadem
And rending lullaby
It runs its restless fingers
Over longing and delight
Stirring memories that linger
Deep into the quiet night
It ravages intention
And distorts visceral thought
In reckless intervention
Summarizing what is not
Yet, the clock broadens 'forever'
In a phantom hour glass
And the waves release their candor
As the ceaseless ages pass
While the hollow of the midnight
Seems to touch the very core
Of a melody of moments
That can never drift  a-shore


Purple (Teddy) is Found!

 ( I peeked into her room before coming in to do the 'tuck in' and found a picture of contentment:)

Remember this? Lost Teddy

Tonight she will sleep like the mother
who sleeps
without an ear tuned
for the sound of a door
or a step
Tonight she will sleep
a slumber
rich and deep
All the children are home
tucked safely in bed


Yes, mother found it so Mother got the reward!
...Four chocolate-covered almonds and three dimes:)
The reward was sealed in an envelope the day the posters went up
so the almonds were a little....chewy;)

Oh! Where was it ? In a bag of Anne Geddes dolls stored in my closet,
which I found while spring cleaning today!
The Anne Geddes dolls come out for a special treat so they don't get 'wrecked'.
I guess Purple hopped in the bag with them the last time they were out to play...

 "Ford's in his flivver," murmured the D.H.C. "All's right with the world." Aldous Huxley


It rolls over vale, hilltop and woodland
Tides of green mercy, sweetening our scope
Vision of wonder transforming landscapes
From dormant dreaming to refurbished hope

It sweeps without movement in subtle oceans
Spring metamorphosis bleeds from the shell
Of earth’s stricken glory and reflection
Miracles spilling to furrow and dell

Into the pasture of heartlands it rushes
Reviving our spirits and warming our smile
See how the morning and evening light blushes
As spring consumes winter with passionate guile

It rolls over hilltop, valley and meadow
Jubilant anthems of ecstatic grace
Earth responds to the Maestro of Heaven
Emerald diadems cover her face

© Janet Martin

Things are beginning to green!
These pics are taken a month apart...


 image source:

You call me
Stalwart figure luring
Me to your faithful, strong, out-stretched arms

Like a tree
Planted by the water
Your roots run deep, grounded in my heart

Oh my love
The seasons leave their mark
But you grow more beautiful with time

Take me now
Let me rest in your boughs
Of brawny strength bending with the storm

© Janet Martin 

Prompt from Poetic Blooms
 Parallelogram de Crystalline is a poetry form created by Karan Naidu. This form consists of 4 verses of 3 lines each. The syllable count for each stanza is 3, 6, 9. In this style of poem, the beauty of a person is usually compared with nature and described in those terms…

Extended Grace

The night has fled, its somber shroud
Is swallowed by the plea
Of amber and magenta cloud
Spreading across the sea
Above this sphere a robe of cheer
Dissolves in rampant glow
To touch the heart, melting ramparts
Of fear and doubt and woe

Behold the glory of the Son
Reach out; inhale His grace
As mercy tumbles from Love's throne
To every hiding place
Of old and young in kindred tongue
The universe declares
That there is none, like heaven’s own
Whose wonderment compares

He stirs the fringes of deep night
Where moon and stars reside
He overrules the dark with Light
As night and morn collide
Across the earth hope’s grand re-birth
Extends this scope of Grace
We lift our eyes to glorious skies
To glimpse the Giver’s face

© Janet Martin

He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.(Matt.5:45)

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

A Day for Celebration

This is a day for celebration
Open your heart and sing
Join the myriad of creation
Heralding the dawn of spring

This is a day of miracle-wonder
Immaculate repertoire
Ripple of zephyr and rolling of thunder
Tuning the landscape choir

This is the day of woodland-minstrels
Stories of nature’s rebirth
Open your eyes, nothing is minuscule
On this greatest day on earth

This is the day of rain-song and gold sun
Laughing on earth’s avenue
Fling back the curtain to Scene number one
Of spring’s 2012 debut

© Janet Martin

Tender Mercy

When I cannot pray for as I ought
or know how to give thanks
Oh Lord, you understand my thought
and You fill in the blanks


I opened my mouth to praise Him
as I beheld expanding ribbons of beauty
dissolving the dark ...but could simply gape in dumb-founded awe!
...that He should love us so
as to open the pages of the sky in daily original glory!
All I could whisper was 'thank-you for seeing what I know not how to say!'

Blind Trust

 Image source:

We cannot see what we hope for
All we can do is trust
In He who tips the jars of Heav’n
To water this earth’s dust

His wells of goodness and mercy
Are never parched or dry
Above, beneath, beside us
Is His all-beholding eye

Dare we to question He who bars
The cloud into its realm-
In perfect order scatters stars
Upon the floors of Heaven?

Life’s threshing floor oft we misjudge
As we cry out to God
Vain chaff He longs to purge from us
Love wields His earnest rod

We cannot see what we hope for
Nor understand the thought
Of He who laid the universe
Into a sea of naught

How mighty is the One we trust
He turns the tide of seasons
He clothes the earth, waters the dust
And loves us beyond reason

© Janet Martin

Then the LORD spoke to Job out of the storm. He said:
  “Who is this that obscures my plans
   with words without knowledge?
 Brace yourself like a man;
   I will question you,
   and you shall answer me.
 4“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?
   Tell me, if you understand. Job 38 1-4