Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Sacred Similes or Art-Accountability Awareness

Like a vast lake,
blush, blue and gold
unfolding overhead...

...where daybreak, like a threshold to pictures that dusk will seal
Ought first to be a blush-blue-golden altar where we kneel ...


Like canvases to sketch upon, Today is always new...


The art succeeding stretch-and-yawn is up to me and you
Where circumstance is but the scrim we splash with artistry...



Like a vast lake, blush, blue and gold unfolding overhead
Day breaks; and from yon welkin hold dawn’s fledgling wings are spread
Where, young and old alike embark, like a migrating surge
Of souls, pressing toward the mark of eternity’s verge
Where it is not made known to us how far the future splays
Until we tread the exodus of mist-like, numbered days

Like canvases to sketch upon, Today is always new
The art succeeding stretch-and-yawn is up to me and you
Where circumstance is but the scrim we splash with artistry
From mercy-granted trays that brim with opportunity
To sing a hymn, to breathe a prayer, to lend a helping hand
To be kind and humbly aware of time’s trickle of sand

Like a tree softly doffed of leaves, moment-momentum keens
The seed that grows into the sheaves that harvest-season gleans/weans
Like artists poised before pedestals as dawn hoists Today
We brush-daub-lob Originals that appear drawn away
But not forever; someday when our ‘painting-days’ are done
God will be the Appraiser, studying them, one by one

Oho, surely in light of this, there is no Commonplace
Each day is like a holy kiss from God, a gift of grace
Dawn’s debut, as it rends the air, propels eternity
Toward each one of us, bearing Soul’s immortality
Thus, whether young or old, before we start Art of Today
Not one of us should be so bold as to forget to pray

...where daybreak, like a threshold to pictures that dusk will seal
Ought first to be a blush-blue-golden altar where we kneel 
To thank God for His favours and to ask Him to direct
Where many tints and flavours taunt, flaunt, wink and interject
Then, beseech His whisper to wage, where brushstrokes heed command  
So all that remains on the page are imprints of His Hand
   
© Janet Martin

The trees are definitely being 'softly-doffed' today!



Today's post inspired in part by part of my morning Scripture reading...

Jer.17:5-10
This is what the Lord says:
“Cursed is the one who trusts in man,
who draws strength from mere flesh
and whose heart turns away from the Lord.
6 That person will be like a bush in the wastelands;
they will not see prosperity when it comes.
They will dwell in the parched places of the desert,
in a salt land where no one lives.

7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
whose confidence is in him.
8 They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.”

9 The heart is deceitful above all things
and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?

10 “I the Lord search the heart
and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
according to what their deeds deserve.”

Also,
Partly by a line in the book The Irrational Season
by Madeleine L'Engle
"If you were arrested as a Christian, 
would there be enough
evidence against you to convict you?"

...and partly by an immense sense of standing on a fresh canvas of Time,
as I watched the sunrise unfolding

May You ask for and sense God's Hand over yours today!
Happy Painting!

Mine involves a scrub bucket and other
fall-cleaning essentials!
(like good music!)
Like this one!





Monday, October 30, 2023

Father In Heav'n (Yet Near Enough...)

Ps.9:1-2 &8- 9
(read the whole glorious chapter here)

I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart;
I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.
I will be glad and exult in you;
I will sing praise to your name, O Most High...

...The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble.
And those who know your name put their trust in you,
for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you.

Oh how our hearts groan as we pray 
for cares close to home and far away...

(yet, oh so near!)

I began this poem bright and early but the New Furnace Installers arrived
bright and early as well!
And because the computer, where I write is right in the main living area
where they were constantly walking through
I decided to finish it after they finished, 
which turns out to be tonight!

This poem was inspired in part as the very familiar opening to The Lord's Prayer
filled me with fresh wonder!!



Father in Heav’n, (yet near enough to hear Thought’s heart-borne plea)
How oft, with reverence and love, through living’s high and low
We pour before Thy throne of grace, our praise and agony
There You restore our souls so we can face faith’s cunning foe
Where, without You vainly we grope for hope and comfort true
For, hopeless is all hope without the hope we find in You

Father in Heav’n, (yet near enough to catch a falling tear)
No circumstance transcends Your love that reconciles and saves
Goodness and mercy’s author, You tread on dread’s storms of fear
When doubt’s dark tempests bother, You rebuke its wind and waves
As, through the power of your Word You fit us for the day
Faithful and true, You undergird all who trust and obey

Father in Heav’n (yet near enough to be our constant Stay)
Your love, an everlasting love that calls us all by name
You came to seek the lost, for all like sheep have gone astray
And though you knew the cost you did no King’s exemption claim
But suffered in our stead the price, redemption’s crown to win
Once and for all, the sacrifice that broke the curse of sin

Father in Heav’n, (yet near enough to know our every need)
Deliver us from evil with Your love that will not fail
When we do not know how to pray, Lord, kindly intercede
Remind us, come whatever may, Your purpose will prevail
No enemy can intercept what love has overcome
Father in Heav’n, (yet near enough to lead us gently home)

Amen

© Janet Martin









Saturday, October 28, 2023

With All That God Makes Possible...

Happy final golden weekend of October, 2023


In autumn poetry tugs at the heart at every turn
awakening in us the same awe as it did in poets of old...

Psalm 8

 O LORD, our Lord,

how majestic is Your name in all the earth!

You have set Your glory

above the heavens.

2From the mouths of children and infants

You have ordained praiseb

on account of Your adversaries,

to silence the enemy and avenger.

3When I behold Your heavens,

the work of Your fingers,

the moon and the stars,

which You have set in place—

4what is man that You are mindful of him,

or the son of man that You care for him?

5You made him a little lower than the angels;c

You crowned him with glory and honor.

6You made him ruler of the works of Your hands;

You have placed everything under his feet:d

7all sheep and oxen,

and even the beasts of the field,

8the birds of the air and the fish of the sea,

all that swim the paths of the seas.

9O LORD, our Lord,

how majestic is Your name in all the earth!


If at all possible, allow yourself to pause from pressing care
To rest beneath the golden bough slowly but surely growing bare...



Look at the birds and breathe a prayer of thankfulness to He who tends
The creatures of land, sea and air with mercy’s gracious dividends...



If at all possible, delight in simple sight-and-sound of Leaf
Indulge desire’s appetite with wonders, momentous and brief...





If at all possible, allow yourself to pause from pressing care
To rest beneath the golden bough slowly but surely growing bare
Take time to hum a humble hymn of hope, happiness, peace and love
To take note of the gifts that brim from autumn’s dimming treasure trove

Look at the birds and breathe a prayer of thankfulness to He who tends
The creatures of land, sea and air with mercy’s gracious dividends
Now and then commit to ignore the rigid edict of tick-tock
Enjoy falls fading hues before they strew the yard and street and walk

If at all possible, delight in simple sight-and-sound of Leaf
Indulge desire’s appetite with wonders, momentous and brief
Enjoy the view, autumn-dawn pure; of no two days ever the same
Drawing us to our Farewell Tour back to the Hand from whence we came

Explore moments shucked from a sheaf that spills its grief in russet snow
As soft, the earth is tucked beneath a counterpane of Afterglow
If at all possible, allow Autumn’s glory to steal your breath
Before the gold and scarlet bough bears the stark evidence of death

Oh Lord, our Lord, How majestic is Your great name in all the earth
From age to age, You light the wick that kindles worship's awestruck birth
For no mortal can grasp Your ways and thoughts, but should wholly contend 
With all that You make possible, to praise and praise You without end 

© Janet Martin

Explore moments shucked from a sheaf that spills its grief in russet snow
As soft, the earth is tucked beneath a counterpane of Afterglow...



If at all possible, allow Autumn’s glory to steal your breath...
Before the gold and scarlet bough bears the stark evidence of death...



Friday, October 27, 2023

Autumn Joys

 

A few snap-shots from the past few days that helped inspire this poem






The plush hush-hush of feet through leaves...



The plush hush-hush of feet through leaves
The stillness of fields shucked of sheaves
The way the wind through woodland weaves
A canopy of blue
The hurry-scurry, frisky squirrel
The leaf-cartwheel, the boy and girl
Imitating the lilt and twirl
Of treetop’s dwindling hue

Rain-rendered decoupage, wet-cold
Lanes and sidewalks paved with leaf-gold
A little mittened hand to hold
Or steaming cup ‘o joe
Gladness so profound the heart leaps
With praise for squash and pumpkin heaps
And all goodness man plants then reaps
As by God’s grace we go

The five-star bliss of five-star dreams
For five-star supper’s five-star beams
Of five-star happiness that gleams
In loved one’s smiles and eyes
Warmth of homecooked simplicity
And precious love of family
Kindles a thankful-as-can-be
Masterpiece-paradise

The undulating rise and fall
As landscapes pen a madrigal
That needs no words to say it all
Yet leaves spectators awed
By nature’s color-symphony
Spilling across the dimming lea
An autumn song we throng to see
Whose composer is God

© Janet Martin

Rain-rendered decoupage, wet-cold...


Lanes and sidewalks paved with leaf-gold...







Bat Not Thine Eye Lash at Thy Guilt...or, Earnest Plea


Reading through the books of Isaiah and Jeremiah kindles
much sober reflection and speechless awe
for the sure judgment and the abounding love and mercy of God



Brush not at sin, like lint on sleeves
To save everyone who believes

Rush not, bold-faced, into the day
Without reckoning He who grants
The morn its light; bow down and pray

Mock not, nor take in vain the Name
Above all names; but chastely fear
The One, whereby prophets proclaim

Let not imagination rule
In rebel disobedience
Approach today with reverence

Lest, poorly and blindly content
With pomp and show of Noble Thought
Thy deathless soul reaps hell’s lament/torment

Thy futile prayers when troubles groan
Fall on thy knees, repent, revere
The God of gods and God alone

For love, devoted to obey
He whose decrees are undeterred

Bat not thy eye at the grave rift
Each soul must ford ‘neath death’s cold knife

© Janet Martin




1 John 1:9
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins 
and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Panning For Autumn Gold or Because of Farewell's Winning Ways

 I want to learn the fine art of panning for autumn-gold...


To marvel at grand frescos etched on ceilings of thin air
Before time’s hand runs fingers through treetops silent and bare...




I want to learn the fine art of panning for autumn-gold
I want to try to taste more wonder than a heart can hold
I want to be tuned to the imminence of letting go
Because the winning way of farewell hides in each hello

I want to linger longer in a leaf-lit afternoon
To steep senses in flickers of woodland’s lofty festoon
To marvel at grand frescos etched on ceilings of thin air
Before time’s hand runs fingers through treetops silent and bare

I want to plan a dinner-date beneath fall’s canopy
Serenaded by minstrels tall and stately as can be
To discover the treasure in the fine measure of Now
And not postpone the pleasure of the fleeting autumn bough

I want to make the most of what no sleight of can tame
To try each flying live-learn-love, where Past has staked it claim
To take more precious time to pause where Was is always chief
Where winsome, winning ways of farewell fret in every leaf

© Janet Martin

I want to plan a dinner-date beneath fall’s canopy
Serenaded by minstrels tall and stately as can be...





Tuesday, October 24, 2023

To Keep Want's Wish-list Undeterred


This may look like a common to-do list, 
but there is an underlying wish-list/prayer
that, in all I (we) do,
to be a (broken, mended, scarred and chipped)
vessel God's love pours through...

Dear Lord,

Not one step do I want to dare
To take outside Thy tender care
Nor do I want to boast, save in
Thy Son, who broke the curse of sin

Let me not treasure any Thing
Above my Savior's suffering
Who, on the cross of Calvary

Let me pursue no fonder goal
Than the dwelling place of my soul
And let me crave nothing above
A heart, through which You pour Your love

...to kindle delight in Your Word
To keep Want’s wish-list undeterred
Desiring that in all I do
Your Light of 'Christ in me', shines through

That, 'thanks to God who always leads'
Your faithful triumph intercedes
For I am nothing on my own
Then, let me live for You alone
Amen

© Janet Martin

Let your light so shine before men, 
that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.
Matt.5:16

Outdoor chores are taking priority these day!
Yesterday I pulled the sunflowers, prepping the garden for the neighbor to haul fertilizer,
 aka manure 😉on it whenever he is ready!
But, not wanting to discard of this beautiful, bountiful buffet for the birds 
the fence offers a perfect prop for non-stop feeding and
viewing pleasure!





Sometimes my husband calls to see what I am working on..
He wondered, this morning, where today's poem-inspiration came from.
Partly from this devotion in my Utmost for His Highest...



Monday, October 23, 2023

Of First Glances




If all was as pure as fall-morning's delight when earth is dipped in frost
First glance could indulge its appetite without ever weighing the cost

But Guile preys on First Glance, it seems, to captivate its prey
 Then test the quests that Want esteems with very subtle sway

 For all is not pure as fall-morn's delight, when earth is dipped in frost
Where first glance indulges its appetite without ever weighing the cost




At first glance, Guile seems to tick the right boxes
A fine façade can play tricks on the eye
But oh, my dear, be on guard for sly foxes
Tickling Thought’s tendrils of reason awry

Study the fruit of the tree, trace its branches
Past the entrancing sigh of wind through leaves
Past the impressions offered to first glances
Past the distraction attraction achieves

Guile, though it smiles, is still, just a smooth-talker
Sin, clothed in lamb’s wool does not make it pure
Vice, masquerading as Nice, is a mocker
Tempting gullible first glance with its lure

…that seems at First-Glance to tick the right boxes
Making us second guess That Still Small Voice
Whispering, ‘Oh! be aware of sly foxes
Teasing Thought’s tendrils of reason to Choice

© Janet Martin







When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food 
and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, 
she took some and ate it. 
Gen.3:6

Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, 
our vineyards that are in bloom.
Song of Solomon 2:15