Dear Lucy, Then Heaven...

Dear Lucy, today marks nine months since

you were suddenly called Home...

May all of us who miss you so

honour your memory by loving well

those still within our reach!💓🙏

Lucy loved flowers...esp. peonies!

In her eulogy one of her children remembered her calling to them

to come and stuff their face in a peony 

'because you have not lived till you've stuffed your face in a peony!!'

So Lucy, this peony-season each face-stuffing is in tender memory of you...💝💔

 Won't you too, take time to stuff your face in a peony?!

and when you do, thank God for your loved ones, 

pray for those mourning the loss of a loved one

and consider, if God should call you as suddenly as He called Lucy

nine months ago, if you are prepared to meet Him

because you have received the gift of salvation 

when you believed in Him! 

This is one of the first verses our parents taught us to memorize

John 3:16

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, 

that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

***

When Death, the Scythe that ceases Time, gathers a loved one beyond reach

Then Heaven, once hope's distance clime becomes longing's uttermost roar

Where, though we stagger 'neath the weight of lessons love must ever teach

We turn our eyes toward a Gate that gleams far fairer than before

When Death delivers Farewell's rift and stuns the grasp of mortal ken

Then Heaven, once salvation's gift becomes sorrow's song, over-joyed

And though our tears may flow, we know God's keeps His promises. Amen

He cheers us with strains of 'hello' wafting across yon, gaping void

When Death reminds we who remain how small-swift-sacred is life's lease 

When earthly loss is Heaven's gain then Heaven suddenly draws near

Compelling us with humbler hearts to look upon the Prince of Peace

Until faith turned to sight imparts the face of God and loved ones dear 

When Death, the Scythe that ceases time fells dust-to-dust's brief vestibule 

Then Heaven, once hope's distant clime draws grief to gaze beyond the grave

On He who gathers back the soul, who made Heaven's hope/Home possible 

Conquering death and hell for all who call on Him, Mighty To Save 

~Janet Martin

The Sweet By and By

Peony-June

Peak peony-blooming time and longevity

 depends a lot on the temperatures of June.

This year's moderate to slightly cooler temps 

will hopefully vibrantly extend the much anticipated lifespan 

of our beloved peony!

Here is an attempt to share

a bit of pink petal-pleasure with you.

Enjoy!

Many a face has been buried deep in your perfumed bloom

Many a burdened carried then lost in your ruffled loom

Many a heart has been lifted, and many a witness awed

And many a bouquet gifted straight from the hand of God

Many a poem has thundered, many a poet been born

Many a marvel wondered while praising thy lovely form

Many a prayer has been murmured, and many a care set free

In thee, plush harbinger of summer, in thee, pretty peony

Many a gladness kindled, and many a sadness cheered

Many an atheist humbled by many a Beauty endeared

Where many a bud has broken and many a posy has strewn

Many a petal-pink token of many a peony-June

© Janet Martin

Peony-Bliss Carmen

Because It's All So Brief...from First Frond-Shimmer to Sheaf

A blend of panic and perfect pleasure

pervades my senses as I stand among

the brief and precious bloom of peonies...

(I just noticed on this photo above, 

the persistent bindweed has already resurfaced between the rocks, g-r-r-r!!

after I thought I tackled it thoroughly two weeks ago!! see this post)

Last night I realized the fading sheen of green in the neighboring grain field!

...evoking a tender tug, aware of the impending inevitable; June's farewell

Happy 2nd half of June!

The ups and downs

and in betweens

of grays and browns

and blues and greens

Unfolds an

ever-wending wow

from molds of

never-ending now

The ebb and flow

that tunes the sky

with dawn’s hello

and noon’s goodbye

Unravels as it

binds to sheaves

what sparkle-whit

unwinds and weaves

Where bidden nuance

woos its art

to hidden viewpoints

of the heart

Where oft we stand

to gaze, agape

at mist-soft land-

scapes taking shape

While hunger plunders

hills and holes

While wonder thunders

in our souls

With ups and downs

and in betweens

of grays and browns

and blues and greens

  

© Janet Martin

Psalm 144:4
Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.

What Ifs Versus What Is...

He who promised is faithful.

Heb.10:23

A flower isn't a flower until the bud unfolds the bloom!

What Is in bloom now?

Peonies in the flower garden!

And the Flower of What Is, in life...

The ‘what ifs’ of regret cannot undo what has been done

Where What Is sets time’s tables with fresh favors, mercy-spun

What if instead of wishing for what no wish can undo

We make the most of what is within reach of me and you

God’s mercy new each morning and His all-sufficient grace

Forgiveness for repentance, and His Word to gird our faith

What if instead of fretting and forgetting favours wrought

We focus on remembering What Is, with grateful thought

What if we trusted He who will our every need supply

Where What Is always hinges to far more than meets the eye

Far more goodness and mercy than mortal can comprehend

And love that has no boundaries of beginning or end

The ‘what ifs’ of yesterday and tomorrow borrow care

Today is overflowing with what is enough to bear

What if we take what is, in spite of so much that is not

And humbly honor He who gives us everything we've got

His everlasting promises, His love that will not fail

His wind beneath our wings, His anchor in the galling gale

The ‘what ifs’ of regret are futile; this new day set free

Is brimming with what is waiting for us to ‘taste and see’

What if we love God first and our neighbour next because

What is still most important has always been these two laws

Then what if we rely on He who is in full control

And simply love Him with all of our heart and mind and soul

© Janet Martin

Not all 'what ifs' are 'if onlys'

Sometimes What If is the spark that kindles the dream/bud before the flower!

Originally, the second line in this poem was

'Where What Is sets time’s tables with fresh battles to be won'

but the more I pondered (though the battles are real and often grueling)

the battlefield is cradled in His mercy!

His redemption is complete!

His loving kindness faithful!

Psalm 34:8

O taste and see that the Lord is good: 

blessed is the man that trusteth in him.

Psalm 100:5

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; 

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Phil.4:8

Finally, brothers and sisters, 

whatever is true, 

whatever is noble, 

whatever is right, 

whatever is pure, 

whatever is lovely, 

whatever is admirable—

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—

think about such things.

The Farewell We Are In...

Whenever I see the peonies begin to wilt and wither

I'm filled with a sense of loss...

Loss tends to make us bend a little closer to the bloom

To revel in the fragrant folds falling from summer’s loom

How subtle whirs the shuttle taming tendrils of the vine

Into a paisley fretwork of echo-woven design

Loss tends to make us kinder where we had been blind before

To how swift petals fade and fall to bloom for-nevermore

Whether the loss we suffer is a friend or season-flit

We find our hearts grow softer in the aftermath of it

Loss tends to make us more aware and thankful for Today

That ever- fleeting chariot that draws the years away

Filled with a holy hunger we can never quite appease

While petals fall from flowers like hours to memories

Loss tends to make us mindful of a deeper sense of Now

Its sorrow seems to kindle sweeter happiness somehow

As we learn to live slower and take time to take time in

Because Loss tends to tune us to the Farewell we are in

© Janet Martin

But as I mourn the end of another peony season I turn to

see that once again, the lily-lanterns are lit...

Loss tends to make us bend a little closer to the bloom...

The grass withers, the flower fades, 

But the word of our God stands forever.”

Isa.40:8

Poem-Thunder

On a picture-perfect June Saturday with lots to do

poetry thunders!

💗

A poem, is like a bouquet

Of peonies, soft pink...

Like bud that pulses, pops and spills

In green leaf canopy...

A poem is more than mere verse

More than meter and rhyme

It wrangles feelings into words

Melds common with sublime

It gathers moments that would fade

Without a second thought

Snared from seasons as they parade

Through graces, soon forgot

A poem takes us by the hand,

Nay, tugs at inner strings

Its truth, beauty and love withstands

The ever-change time brings

It courses through the utmost part

Of hearts; steeds, hunger-shod

Always showcasing, with word-art

The majesty of God

It preaches, teaches, reaches where

No naked eye can see

To storm Soul’s sacred thoroughfare

Hinged to eternity

A poem, from life’s ugliness

Of thorns that pierce and prick

Points out the blood-red loveliness

Of Hope’s rose-kindled wick

A poem thunders without sound

Through wonder's speechless gaze

Where wonder is the holy ground

Of worship's flawless praise

A poem, is like a bouquet

Of peonies, soft pink

It cheers a dark and dreary day

With petals made of ink

A poem celebrates the thrills

That fill the earth with glee

Like bud that pulses, pops and spills

In green leaf canopy

Like innocence of little child

Pirates of stolen breath

Where joy and sorrow drive us wild

With birth’s promise of death

Where insecurity and fear

Could smother happiness

Where we are altogether here

By the Creator’s ‘yes’

Where, now and then, lest we turn blind

To Hands, (not without scar)

A poem can gently remind

Us how precious we are

© Janet Martin

Psalm 63:3 ESV

Because your steadfast love

is better than life,

my lips will praise you!

A few more June joy-praises...

Seasoned Promises...

 Don't you just LOVE the seasoned promises that pop in pink, plump peonies?!

Lord, give us eyes to see

Lest, sight-blind we forget

The Author of earth’s poetry

Is ever with us yet

This world of want and woe

Would weigh us with despair

But your kind grace whereby we go

Strews glimpses everywhere

Then, in this human race

As we press to yon Bar

Lord, give us eyes to see Your grace

Exactly where we are

…and fill our hearts with praise

And humble happiness

You crown our hurt and hope-filled days

With seasoned promises

© Janet Martin

“Never again will I curse the ground because of man, 

even though every inclination of his heart is evil from his youth. 

And never again will I destroy all living creatures as I have done. 

As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, 

cold and heat, 

summer and winter, 

day and night 

shall never cease.” 

Gen.8:21-22