Monday, December 31, 2018

And The Crowd Goes Wild

Sum of a Year

Here it is
And there it goes!

Like mist that melts from morning’s verge
Like airborne-tides that ebb and surge
From dawn to dusk dust leaves its mark
Like sparks that spiral on the dark
As expectation’s hopeful cheer
Reflects upon a soldered year
Of heaven-tendered highs and lows
From its first scene to curtain close
The crowd goes wild, stands to applaud
The unwavering grace of God
Eyes fixed upon a mystic Door
Where nobody has been before
Where faith, not fear will be our Guide
For Love Unfailing will preside

© Janet Martin

Happy Last-day-of-2018!
a tender look back on what has been
 As humble hope hails Majesty
From a highway hinged to eternity
All cupped in the Ever-Able Hands
Of He who pours and snuffs time's sands 

 Jude 1:21
Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.

Saturday, December 29, 2018

The One Thing We Can Always Choose; Response

Not gonna lie
Oh, some days I
Could fill the sky
With loud lament
But would good is
A tantrum’s hiss
But proof of this
Proud discontent
We cannot choose each circumstance
Only response to what it grants

© Janet Martin

Two examples of response from the Bible that always impact and humble me; 
one from the Old Testament...

Then Job's wife said to him,
 “Do you still retain your integrity? Curse God and die!”
 He replied, "You are talking like a foolish woman. 
Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" 
In all this, Job did not sin in what he said.

Job 2:9-10

...and one from the New

This is from the story of the angel coming to Mary,
 a young virgin, to tell her she will have a baby,
 And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word. 

 Luke 1:38

and, on the bright side, this piece of art was lying on the driveway this morning!


A Fine Intermingling

  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, 
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 
Are you not much more valuable than they? 
 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?


The way flood waters rise and ebb leaving drenched aftermath
The way the wind will leave chaos in its riotous path
The way the sun will rise and set tinting the land and sea
And stealing our very breath amidst adversity
This is the way of love and life; Beauty and brokenness
A fine mingling of joy and strife and chosen happiness

Where fear will drive its victims mad but faith will set us free
Where hope will make our hunger gladder than doubt’s misery
Where what we cannot see ahead is like a tender dare
To trust in He who calms our dread and hears each humble prayer
This is the way of love and life; fine-mingled want and need
As we surrender He provides His strength to intercede

© Janet Martin

Friday, December 28, 2018

Ignorance is Bliss But It Won't Fix The Problem...

This morning as I blithely wrote about being gladder than we sometimes are 
 I was oblivious to the lake in the basement…
Last night I painted a poem about Midnight Rain(ha-ha, I even mentioned flood-gates­čśĆ)
 as it pelted the window and I couldn’t sleep
and I didn’t know then that the sump pump hose was clogged with ice
and Rain Poetry would lose its Romanticism in an instant,
 simply by going down to the freezer to take out a pound of ground beef for supper.

I went out for coffee/shopping with a friend
thinking the flood had been retained in the ‘old’ part of our basement,
not the rec room. I was wrong!
 (I've been researching how to paint cement-floors.
That idea is starting to sound very appealing­čśÉ)
I'm tired of 'let's lift the rug' game!

Because we cannot see into tomorrow we are free
To not borrow the 'sorrow' that is waiting yet to be
To not double our trouble by ‘what if’s’ futile distress
But take the day in hand and try to find its happiness

Tomorrow Today’s good or ill will compose yesterday
And who knows what is waiting to spill from time’s refilled tray
So by the grace of God we go, and if we let Him lead
He will provide at the right time, exactly what we need

 (in this case, mops, fans, a roaring mother, oops, I mean, fire;-)

© Janet Martin

So much for a cozy, Christmas-y room...
Oh well, then I remember those with real troubles.

A Hymn For Him Inspired by Farewell-fired 'Things'

The line in this poem; *And coffee with a slice of cheese
Was inspired by my being deliciously spoiled this Christmas
with two of my most favorite things in the world... Coffee and cheese!

This poem is a little collection of this spent year's mementos ...

For jars filled with forget-me-nots
For flower pots on windowsills
For innocence of tiny tots
For wonder’s unexpected thrills
For circle-notes on puddled lane
For leaf-boats on its little lakes
For laughter’s silver-sparkle strains
For supper soup and birthday cakes

For scenes that twinkle through our touch
But rest forever in the heart
For everyone we love so much
Whether together or apart
For hope for things to come, where Past
Has such a hearty appetite
Yet each day hoists a virgin mast
And bids us sail toward the night

Not swaddled yet in death’s cold bod
Not blindfolded or bound in chains
But free to see, hear and applaud
Each Masterpiece that God sustains
For the fond bond of true friendship  
For home-sweet-home and family
For August afternoons that drip
Like honey to a cup of tea

For wealth of health and strength for toil
For hard work’s well-earned beauty-sleep
For summer’s unmerited spoil
Where nature gifts what none can keep
For fuzzy socks and apple pie
*And coffee with a slice of cheese
For four-season wind-lullaby
And thousand unnamed luxuries

For what we understand, or not
Where we are all students of life
For Mercy’s unwavering lot
Reaffirmed where new day runs rife
For what we name and what we miss
Dear Lord, accept our hymn of praise
And keep us ever keened to this;
The Never-ending End of Days

For mantles made of morning mist
For candles made of autumn’s leaf
For the refurbished to-do list
For wrinkles proving Time is chief
For laughter of both heart and brook
For After Dark’s strange Art unfurled
For the barge of a story-book
And armchair, to travel the world

For Goodness none of us have earned
For lessons gleaned from what has been
For woods when springtime has returned
With sundry-splendored shades of green
For promises still being met
For awesomeness of simple things
Like buttered bread, common and yet
It makes us feel like queens and kings

For holding before letting go
For babies bouncing on our knee
For ‘always something we don’t know’
The beauty of Discovery
For Old Year tumbling from Time’s sill
For New Year’s intangible Yet
Like a big jar that we will fill
With flowers we still have not met

© Janet Martin