Sacred Submission

 

Into the hand that kindles dark with light,

The seed with bloom

And woos the wonderland of spring

From Mother Nature’s womb

And bends the dawn with hope reborn

And sends the sun and rain

And mends the hurts of humankind

To make us glad again

…and tends the galaxies where

Neither Height nor depth exceeds

The hand of loving-kindness

That assuages mortal needs

And wore the nails and bore the Death

And tore The Veil away

Into these hands, these Supreme Hands

We commit this day

© Janet Martin


 The Lord bless you and keep you; 
 The Lord make His face shine upon you,
And be gracious to you;
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace.”

Numbers 6:24-26

Look at the Cross (a repost because...)

   

...first I was going to call this an Easter Poem but

This is not an 'Easter' poem,

It is an every-day-of-our-lives poem

Look, look at the cross, no, no don’t look away
See love's sacred offering on gruesome display
See the thorns, wicked thorns so humbly worn
By the One who loved all; All the sick and forlorn,
The foolish, the wealthy, all those who would scorn
His dear name; so look at the cross on public display,
Not in some dark corner tucked dimly away
But up on a hill for the whole world to see
Perfect love, awesome love for you and me

Look, look at the cross, at the dear Lord’s face
Bearing the shame of public disgrace,
A face that was spat on, yet knew only love,
The face of a King from a kingdom above,
A face which has power earth and heaven to move
In a whisper; yet on it flow crimson tears
As He weeps, not in pain but in love so sincere
He calls out to His father from upon this tree
The symbol of hope for humanity

Look, look at the cross, at the hands that are bleeding,
Pierced through with nails and yet He is pleading
That man will find mercy in this holy flood,
Forgiveness and hope in a perfect Lamb's blood,
Redemption pouring from the Son of God
His hands stretch out for all to see
That this is He who sets men free
Hands that ministered to man’s most humble need
Have fulfilled their greatest work indeed

So look at the cross, behold the Lamb
The beginning, the end, the Great I AM
Look at his body, pierced and bleeding
Love flowing down for all who are needing
The hope of a Savior, as still He is pleading
Forgive them; and as darkness and thunder descend
His cry is heard through all the land
‘It is finished,” and now there is hope for the lost
If we look at the cross, if we look at the cross...

...and if we look at the cross, at the out-stretched limb,
Behold the blood and the suffering,
If we gaze on His love and the wonder of Him,
Will we think to be saved on that final Day
If we look, turn our backs and walk away?


Janet Martin

Shall I crucify your King? Pilate asked. John 19:15

Cheers to Years Because Time Always Disappears

All these mornings

Of pouring coffee

Of nose-to-the-grindstone

Adds up to years

And suddenly we are

Startled anew

At how fast

Time disappears

The hand that gathers

Morning-noon-night

And binds it

Into sheaves

Though Kindness bestows

Rose-thorn joy

Still, the heart

Gently grieves

The morning light

That precedes noon

Before night

Darkly breaks

Composes a

Dissonant tune

By what Time gives

…and takes

This what-we-have-

And-hold

Will soon fold

To Yore's far-off land

Time fills the heart

And soul with more

Than thought can

Quite command

© Janet Martin

Famous Fairest of Them All

You bring us blossoms and flower-strewn lanes

You are the prettiest maiden ere seen

Flinging your garment to woodlots and plains

Worlds that were naked are ravished in green

You don’t forget us, the hours we braved

While bully blusters tormented our skin

Are compensated; the kiss that we craved

Falls from the heavens in sun-mellow grin

You waken gardens and arouse farmers

Revive the thirst for those dust-weary days

You restore romance, my, you’re a charmer

Earth rings with bloom-bells where birds sing your praise

You fill up clotheslines with cotton-laughter 

Housewives are happy where windows fling wide

Be gone, dust-bunnies, hello yellow zephyr

Romping in orchards bedecked like a bride

Rose of redemption and forget-me-nots

You crown the brown hill with buds burgeoning

You spill in rain; soldered terrain applauds

Your fame is ageless and your name is Spring

© Janet Martin

I'm off to fill a long line with cotton-laughter;-))

Thou, Faithful Friend and Father

Faithful friend and Father

Lord Immortally

Thou who parts fear’s waters

Watches over me

Healer of all nations

Giver of all life

Thou who tends creation

Tends our care and strife

Shepherd of each sorrow

Keeper of each tear

Thou who sees tomorrow

Holds us ever near

Perfect, patient Presence

Thou art everywhere

Thou who hears the essence

Of each heart-rent prayer

Faithful Friend and Father

Lord eternally

Thou who knows us, teach us

How to trust in Thee

© Janet Martin

Do you ever struggle with this?
...simply taking God at His Word.

Just In Case

How seamless moments meld; a mute succession that creates

The pictures thought will gaze upon as dawn to dusk abates

Ah, pray we do not take for-granted time's gossamer rain

That falls then fades, in case we never meet like this again

How deft the hand that weaves the strand that spills from God to us

How swift the span that closes in where we grin, fret and fuss

The blue-eyed sky grows sleepy and the gates that flung afar

At dawn are drawn and bolted with a brooch of evening star

The sky is painted yellow where dusk’s cello-anthems waft

Then softly disappear into a diamond-studded loft

How hardly we have held those sequences that tock and tick

Now welded to the cast of past; a muted mosaic

We cannot still the tempest that runs through the skin of days

And sets afire the hour that sets hearts and souls ablaze

Nor can we tell how near or far we are to farewell’s pain

So, we should dance in case we never get the chance again

© Janet Martin