Across the Bridge...

Image Source:  wired.com

Someday across the Bridge I know, it's hard to believe

We will sing to Jesus with the likes of Jim Reeves

and other faithful greats who have crossed on to Heaven

As we praise the Power and the Glory forever. Amen

Janet~

Across the Bridge  Jim Reeves

The Vexation of the Unknown...

We cannot write away longing or desire

Nor diminish space by the hex of poetry

But we can languish in a syllable’s fire

And revel in the vexing of what still might be

J~

Deftly the Daylight Disappears...

Deftly, the daylight disappears

A picture of time’s hastening years

The gushing of a still-life sea

Rushing toward eternity

We are the vessel on its swell

Where is the shore? No one can tell

But someday we shall plainly see

What now remains a mystery

‘No eye has seen, no ear has heard’

This is the promise in God’s word

As twilight spills across earth’s lea

But only until eternity…

Janet~

The Beautiful Bittersweet

The wind reclines hazily on the blue hill

Autumn pines restlessly beyond the dark rill

Shadows sprawl languidly, laden with musk

While August scrawls farewell tears into the dusk

I ponder the fulcrum of time’s forward flow

Wondering what to cling to; what to let go

Summer’s retreating stirs corn-tassel seas

Daylight's depleting stirs soft memories

Passion and pleasure and pain coalesce

As gossamer measure dispels Augusts’ tress

Where whispers of umber and bronze-gilded brush

Serenade summer’s unrelenting rush

Tomorrow is a memory waiting to be born

Ripe opportunity wakens with the morn

Weep not for the flower that falls wilted; wasted

But savor the hour spilling to be tasted

What once was is over; what will be a-waits

Like an impatient lover beyond shuttered gates

Cherish each moment but then let it go

This is love’s tormenting triumph and woe

August relinquishes its final embrace

As September steps eagerly into its place

Bravely we reach while still waving so-long

This is love’s bittersweet, beautiful song

© Janet Martin

Stuff or Love

There will never be enough ‘stuff’

to satisfy the lover

of Things

Darling, the mere thought of you

is enough; for the satisfaction

it brings

The chaser of the wind seeks ‘stuff’

Darling, to love you, even in my mind

is enough

J~

Belated Sunday Whirl

In rose dusk a fence of etched trees lace

the painted air; nature’s charcoal pencil-trace

against a canvas where brief moments link

to form a chain of laughter, sorrow, strife

of forgiving and being forgiven; this is life

Now darkness obliterates dusk’s sky-line art

The hour is empty but for the aching of my heart

clasping life’s essentials within its grope

for the operator of Time’s wheel cannot steal

fond memories; life’s recipe for hope

© Janet Martin

The Sunday Whirl # 71

As we meet on Blog-street

It’s enough to know, in the ebb and flow

On Time’s blue circle dot

That you exist within the mist

Of Somewhere; and my thought

No sound of feet upon blog-street

And yet, how sure the touch

As we are smitten with thought written

Of life and love and such

Through word we share delight, despair

The tear and triumph ocean

As we embrace through cyber-space

And bravely-spelled emotion

It’s enough to know in this moment-flow

Of meeting-parting measure

The bond we share through mutual air

In heart-and-soul-spilled treasure

© Janet Martin

...another triquatrain.

The Rush of Blue

Blue Moon...I took this photo tonight. It reminded me of April before the corn was planted)...thanks to some much needed rain at a crucial point the corn is looking okay through this area.

With hungry haste the moments chased

Another day to naught

Across the dell the shadows fell

Like you against my thought

The melody of wind-tossed tree

The rush of blue descending

Beneath the swoon of harvest moon

Lauded the daylight’s ending

The rush of blue in thoughts of you

And echoes clear; unbidden

Collaborate to resonate

In tempests wild and hidden

I cannot quell the raging swell

Of moment-melded power

Nor can I grasp its whispered gasp

As twilight steals the hour

Across the shore storm-waters pour

To dissipate asunder

Across the heart moments impart

A rush of wanton wonder

Beneath my skin somewhere within

A tender tumult urges

In rush of blue as thoughts of you

Across the heart-line surges

J~

Poetic Bloomings invites us to try the triquatrain form.

Some Thursday Thoughts

Salvation through

God’s perfect love

Is not only believing

It is fully receiving

His promise of

Eternal life

***

When we are His Own

We are never alone

On this time-beaten path

But we have His love

Beneath, above

To plead on our behalf

***

We cannot fully live

Until we fully die

To self

***

God, teach me to grow

In my surrender

So my life may glow

With Your holy splendor

***

We are shaped

Not by what we believe

But by Whom we believe in

***

 Abide in me, oh precious Light

In my blindness, be my Sight

***

Come what may

We can cope

If we cling to

Our Living Hope

Janet~

Ah, Little Quill, What Mind's You Fill

Ah, little quill within the hand

A simple ink and metal strand

Moving to shape a thought’s command

In curves of pensive heeding

What vast and vexing oceans swell

As scribes and poets seek to spell

The tides they cannot seal nor quell

Of passion’s pulses bleeding

We dredge the deeps of love and lust

Trolling the steeps of trembling trust

To scrawl these ink-gleanings of dust

In line and curve creation

Where ranks of gathered centuries

Unveil the rush of tear-drenched seas

With nothing more than ink-curve pleas

To shape a thought’s formation

Ah, little quill within our grip

You spill mind-tempests from your tip

Folly and wisdom smoothly slip

Upon blank paper-stages

Take heed, oh thought that moves the veil

Oh storm that fills a sacred grail

As we unleash our ink-exhale

Upon Time’s humble pages

© Janet Martin

Of Having and Holding

It is not so much

The longing for your touch

Or your whisper in my thought

Of all that is not

That drives me mad

It’s the ache of knowing

Life’s having and holding

Has no intention of slowing

Or returning again

What once we had

J~

There are no 'second firsts'.

Enjoy the first you are in

for this day will never pass again:)

...so dance in the day God brought ya'

Good Morning!
It's good to see you here!
Hope your day is a good one:)
J~

It's Always Been This Way

It’s always been this way

Life’s tick by tock hastening

From cradle to grave

…and beyond

The sun rises in the east

Strolling its charted course

Man rises to feast on the ephemeral force

…of moments

Transcendent Ocean rolling

Over time’s temporal sands

To an abyss of mystery

…in His hands

It’s always been this way

A subtle, silvery sever

Of time slipping away

…to forever

© Janet Martin

Living Prayer

Meek Obsessions

Oh God, awake in me today

A new and keen obsession

To serve you in the subtle sway

Of moments as they hasten

You seek, not glamorous success

Nor well-worded intention

But humble hearts of thankfulness

And meek, faithful submission

God, let my employment to you

Be more than long lip-measure

Teach me to seek the will of you

In love’s unfaltering treasure

The dust that shapes ephemeral skin

May form mortal assumption

But God, you know the heart within

Its passion and corruption

Oh God, awake in me today

A new and holy fire

To serve you in each smallest way

With reverent desire

© Janet Martin

Stirred by these words I read this morning...

Gentle Dancer

His approach is soft and tender

She succumbs without a fight

Her warm gold-flecked gaze surrenders

To the deep blue eyes of night

There is comfort in his bearing

And a coolness in his stride

As he steps across the clearing

In the burnished eventide

He does not dictate her answer

She is drawn to his caress

As the night, a gentle dancer

Wraps the day in tenderness

© Janet Martin

  

Someday, as the Night-sounds Fall

Some day as I sit on my porch to recall

Life, thus far and the haste of it all

I know I will hear, as the night-sounds fall

The tap-tap-tap of the basket-ball

When there is nothing else to do

Out he goes to shoot ‘a few’

An hour passes in no time at all

To the tap-tap-tap of the basket-ball

Oft, in the course of my hum-drum day

I hear him thrumming the hour away

As the likes of Carmelo Anthony enthrall

Him, in the tap-tap-tapping of the basket-ball
A childhood passes in no time at all
To the tap-tap-tap of the basket-ball

© Janet Martin

Matthew’s first word was ‘ba’ (ball)

At three years old he loved ‘dribbling’.

A Simple Exhortation

There is an exhortation

We should not take for-granted

To bloom with exaltation

Wherever we’re planted

© Janet Martin

A few years ago a friend gave me portulaca flowers.

Now, every year they re-seed and come up wherever the seeds fall,

blooming vibrantly when many other flowers have begun to fade…

Reveling in Life's Blissful Ordinaries

As long as there are

Laundry-line lullabies

Ever-green framed skies

Freshly-baked pies

And barefoot brothers

As long as

Soft pink remains

For girlies and geraniums

And the kettle softly hums

A tea-song for mothers

As long as sun-flowers beam

Where gardeners dream

Beneath mellow-gold gleam

Of August warm glee

Then this world, in spite of gloom

And its projected doom

Is not half as woebegone

As it could be

© Janet Martin

Sonnet of Hope

As surely as the night falls comes the dawn

And greater than the Darkness IS the Light

As surely as the Unknown IS the One

Whose Hand is mightier than our fight

Frail witnesses are we of His great love

And mortal tongue can never fully tell

The wonders of His hand beneath, above

Guarding the gates to Heaven and to hell

His grace does not extend this wretched scope

For our self-destruction, but for Hope

***

As surely as the autumn comes the spring

We cannot bargain with the Hand of Time

The orchestra of nature’s offering

Is ordered not by law, but the Sublime

As we repeat, footfall upon foot-fall

The agonies and ecstasies of man

Progress is simply history’s recall

Of moment-breaths since time and life began

How futile is the gasp of human race

If we ignore its only Hope; His grace

***

As surely as the night falls comes the Dawn

Twilight is but the swansong of an hour

The bud of youth unfolds; a fragrant yawn

Before it renders to the earth its flow’r

We chase the ambient discourse of our thought

To realize what each of us must learn

The only thing of value we have got

Is Now; we tread a path of no return

But still the Hand remains that formed this scope

Of day and night; of death and life and Hope

© Janet Martin

My thoughts and prayers are with a friend facing some heavy 'unknowns' .
Can you pray on her behalf ?
God fills in the blanks of what I am unable to share.

Love you, G.

Irrefutable Proof

Love speaks

A universal language

And though hugs and kisses are nice

It declares

Its truest passion

In one word;

Sacrifice

© Janet Martin

What we make and take time for proves where our loves lie…

Aren’t you glad He took time for us?

 Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
    and though the Lord makes his life an offering for sin,
he will see his offspring and prolong his days,
    and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand. 

 After he has suffered,
    he will see the light of life and be satisfied;
by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many,
    and he will bear their iniquities.

Isa. 53:10-11

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

Walnut-leaf Harbingers

Premature stragglers

Scatter on green piazza

Prelude to gold rush

© Janet Martin

Our walnut trees are the last to leaf and the first to shed...

I can always count on those golden tears to mingle with my own 'heart-tears':)

Of Imminent Departure

Press the curves of your ethereal body
closely to me; there is urgency
trembling beneath the sultry serenity
of imminent departure as we
put on our best brave faces
to preserve moments sealed in our hearts.

Climb over me, align the fire
in your tortured gaze with my heartbeat,
Quite suddenly your lips
blazing with passion and desire
suffocates the dreamer’s bliss
in the quiver of imminent departure

I must inhale the scent of you
in our last dance; heady musk
filling my veins; eyes of bachelor-button blue,
Your neck is warm, your breath sun-sweet intoxication
highlighting the agony of waiting
in the gathering dusk of imminent departure

A ball of crumpled wishes
lodges achingly in my throat
barring all the perfect words
that I would tell, before you go
across the pale blue hill; and so we stand
as I beg you to press closer

Seal your promise of return within my hand,
Not with summer's roses, for shortly
they too deck the sand in bleak shadow-breaths; oh, come closer
so I may hear; not the foot-fall of imminent departure
but the landing of your tear
upon my cheek, in this farewell hour 

J~

Dear Summer,

Farewells are not forever, love

and if the grace of God above

extends Time's sands another year

then we shall meet again, my dear

Come darling, the sun-drenched ballroom floor is ours...

For some reason I feel like summer ends at the end of the kid's summer vacation instead of at the end of September.

Life-plea

The previous train of thought sparked another

God, let me not squander the vapor-present

In pining or regret for the past, over, done

Nor dwell in futile fear for the Future

As it becomes present,

…then it is gone

© Janet Martin

 

Moments fall like the rain outside my window,

the tangible present slips to reflection…

but, as I walk toward the reflection

it disappears.

Time-scape

Behind us slumbers our Past,

A mind-scape only we can see

Before us gleams the Future, vast

A vale of trembling mystery

Beneath us slips the Present, brief

A smooth and subtle under-tow

Above us, from infinity

Is He who ordains Mercy’s flow

© Janet Martin

Oh Gentle Hand (A Sonnet)

Oh gentle hand that snuffs the summer bloom

Tarry awhile upon far yonder hill

For I must languish in the crickets trill

And wander through earth’s muted living-room

Let me persuade you to withdraw your clasp

And linger in a moment far away

The swell of seasons claims another day

Oh gentle hand, restrain your eager grasp

Why must you haste to glean the florid yield

Of purple loose-strife, aster, golden rod?

Cling to the solemn recompense concealed

Where drifting leaf wanders earth’s vapid sod

Oh gentle hand, pause over summer’s field

And revel in the handiwork of God

***

Oh gentle hand of subtle thievery

Nature responds beneath your tender touch

Relinquishing its verdure to your clutch

Be-taken by your ardent chivalry

But when your soft seduction is complete

And you have stripped fair summer of her gown

Disguising her demise with flaming crown

Before it falls to gutter, hedge-row, street

Oh gentle hand, resist a little more

The urge to spill its crimson aftermath

Oh gentle hand, I beg, plead and implore

Extend the silver sand and blue sky path

For I can sense the creaking of a door

And the foreboding of a chill-wind wrath

© Janet Martin

Storms Never Last Waylon Jennings

Of Pinnacles and Passion

Are you disappointed?

He gazed tenderly

Into her eyes

Where first they met

Last night

In a dream

Are you disappointed?

He thought she had not heard

So her arms wrapped

Around his neck

And she replied

Without a word

J~

Worship

Not a ‘Sunday-morning-pew-thing’

Not an hour, two or three

But may each day I am living

Be my worship unto Thee

Not a portion of recitals

Nor vain scripts of piety

But in spirit true and humble

May my daily worship be

© Janet Martin

Amazing Grace by Celtic Thunder

My Perfect Boast

Oh, let me boast of nothing else

But Jesus and His glory

For there is nothing in myself

Of worth, but His love’s story

Nothing of merit can I bring

To offer of my service

But what is granted by a King

Through love and mercy gracious

Oh, let me boast of nothing else

But Jesus and His glory

Who sacrificed His life for us

In love’s astounding story

© Janet Martin