Of Come-What-May and Hip-hip-hooray...God Is On His Throne

This morning one of my waking thoughts was the words to this Steve Wariner song;

Sun is up, 

Time's at hand

There's a stir across the land

And so begins another day on life's highway...

...and so begins another day of plans and the happenings thereof

or of dealing with life when it does not go according to plan.

like those suffering on hurricane-stricken islands,

or  grieving the loss of a beloved,

or those longing to be with loved ones but cannot due to crisis in the country(such as South Sudan)

This little blue dot hung in space groans with confusion 

that comes with turning one's back on

and one's heart against its Creator God

until many do not even know that they are doing so,

ignorant of the Love that begets light of day

and longs to be our Hope and Stay

Who can foretell come-what-may

Laden with the light of day

Voyageurs on life’s highway

One and all are we

None can sway earth’s seasoned sod

Nor the Staying Hand of God

Faith and hope and mercy shod

We trod toward He

Who, Jehovah, never veers

Never changes with the years

Greater than man’s temp’ral fears

Is His Majesty

Thus, no matter come-what-may

In dark night or light of day

God sets His watch on life’s way

Rife with soul-charged dust

None can thwart what He ordains

Even consequence remains

In the place where He sustains

Remorse; He is just

Therefore, we who seek will find

Strength though weak and sight though blind

God is merciful and kind

Our part is to trust

Sun is up and who can say

What will come to pass today

But, no matter come-what-may

We are not alone

Overhead, around, beneath

Faithful in both life and death

Is He who breathed our first breath

Shaped our skin and bone

He will not leave or forsake

We of stumble and mistake

No matter what move we make

God is on His throne

© Janet Martin

the words to this hymn are so powerful;
this is why I post and re-post it!

The Hand That Dismantles The Dark

 Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. 

Reach out your hand and put it into my side. 

Stop doubting and believe."

John 20:27

The Hand that dismantles the dark

Then dims the light at death of day

Cups in His keep each mortal bark

Like sheep that once had gone astray

The Shepherd of undying love

Seeks man’s undying soul to save

He fits them for a place above

Through His own life He freely gave

Upon a cross He suffered loss

Like a meek Lamb to slaughter led

The Shepherd bore guilt’s albatross

And saved mankind from death’s dark dread

The Hand that dismantles the dark

Is scarred where nails pierced Heaven’s best

For earth’s worst; mercy met the mark

That grants the Way to Heaven’s rest

© Janet Martin

Hello, Farewell Melody

Don’t forget

What lies ahead

Will soon be strewn upon a path

That harbors All

The days that fall

Prey to the call of Aftermath

This which we hold

Of tainted gold

Will crumble in the hands of time

Then don’t forget

What lies ahead

Soon blooms on tombs of Yester-clime

Ah, listen well

Time’s tolling bell

Insists upon dawn’s sacred due

Today, the tryst

That stands betwixt

The ever old and ever new

Then don’t forget

That far-off ‘yet’

Will soon beget its echo-sheaves

What blooms o'erhead

Will soon be spread

Across death's dread like scattered leaves

© Janet Martin

Why Poets? Why Poems?

To cheer the dull dormer

To salute the former

To paint with a murmur

A picture of thought

To hail far-off fellow

To scale willow-cello

And touch time’s lost hello

With tittle of jot

To sail summer’s schooner

When winter comes sooner

Than we expected

In the prime of youth

To etch on plain paper

Child’s innocent caper

To press on page-patience

Age old words of truth

To probe faded flowers

And revisit hours

That day-night devours

Without heed or care

To love with ink-ardor

And revere the charter

Where words beg and barter

From arbors of air

To tickle our fancy

With fickle romance-y

To dance with a drifter

Of whisper and pen

To write then to wonder

What waits over yonder

If poet should plunder

‘Perhaps’ once again

To hold to the Holy

And traverse more slowly

The hill and the valley

Of days come to pass

To keen callous senses

To Ageless Immense-ness

Hinged to shimmered deftness

In life’s hour-glass

© Janet Martin

...As Everyone Is Asking Where Sweet, Sweet September Went

 Where oh, where did sweet September go???

 ...it dripped in a drop 

 and it slipped in a plop

of red apple laughter

 and yellow-leaf caught

soft on a silver and purple-plumed fell

 primed with a sonnet of summer farewell

The offspring of acquittal and rebuttal tunes a tide

That vexes and perplexes with irrevocable stride

It keeps proprietors of clock-stock ever on our toes

While pondering the age-old conundrum of where Time goes

Tis quite a subtle fling between first cry and final sleep

As mist of mystic Moment slips through grip’s ephem’ral keep

This here-today-and-gone-tomorrow beg-and-borrow ploy

Soils-cleans the cup, spoils-keens the sup of love’s sweet sorrow-joy

The wheel that packs the track where what we lack cheers what we hold

Is ethereal yet weaves an odyssey of gray and gold

As floors that roar with seasons spent spill solid solitude

Where everything that came and went is dust-to-dust subdued

Autumnal topiary eases us from summer’s swell

A sentimental poem pleads where none can thwart farewell

As offspring of daylight to dark vexes the eager stride

Of weathered pioneers aboard the bark of season-tide

© Janet Martin