Things Change~

a-a-a-ah! I thought Poetic Bloomings said 'take a line from a favorite movie' They asked for the title...oh well, this still remains a favorite line for the inspiration of this poem...I'll try a title later:) My kids are coming off the bus as I post this.

Things change. They always do, it's one of the things of nature.

~Bridges of Madison County~

Things change…

For better or worse

Blessing or curse

Things never stay the same

In the hour of sorrow

There is hope…

…for tomorrow things will change

And in moments of laughter

We know

They will echo

Long after

The good-byes and the tears

Because we realize now

Things change

And somehow the years

Make us more keenly aware

Of this absolute truth

We cherish moments with care

While dreamers of youth

Reach

Aspire

To the great beyond

We dwell

In the desire

Of this moment... on…

© Janet Martin

In the midst of  all change One remains changeless....thank-you God.

The Possibilites of Chance

Sunday Whirl 55

There is nothing absolute in the realm of chance

An ellipsis of maybes’;

But your cute wink and glance

Caught me off-guard

As I seek to align

My head

With my heart

Resolutions grind

To a hook-line-and-sinker halt

For something in your cobalt-blue gaze

Turns clear-print resolve to a vibrating haze

Then, in contrast to my practicality

I follow the dots of chance and maybe…

For I see, emerging from my sudden trance

The possibility of a beautiful dance

© J~

Sonnet of Spring's (or Life's) Deepening Twilight

 Take Me Home

See how the wave of twilight converges

Over pine spires to the shore of the skies

Feel how its motionless euphony surges

In earth-scented eighth-notes and willow-limb sighs

Far in the distance the spring-peeper heralds

In vespers of innocence, its wee acclaim

Beyond the hills a backdrop of coral

Deepens to ruby in ethereal flame

The brave bloom of spring-time closes its mouth

As sassy noon zephyrs repose to the south

Stillness in choirs of heavenly tenure

Dissolves life’s temporal struggle and hurt

A melody of longing and languor

Wakens the diamond asleep in the dirt

A river of moments and memories roll

Over the spectator perched on night's brim

No word or syllable touches the soul

As earth’s Creator conducts twilight’s hymn

The shimmer and shadow of moon-haloed tones

Brushes the meadow and cool cobblestones

See how the rise and fall of eve’s ocean

Clutches the heart in the swell of its cape

Feel how the tide of wordless emotion

Aches in the hollow of thought without shape

Loss and fulfillment, failure, forgiveness

End and beginning, future and past

Hurting and healing and hope coalesce

Under the banner of twilight’s broad mast

The Maestro directs the subtle release

Of night as it falls in an anthem of peace

© Janet Martin

Steal Away...

as I listen to this I simply have the 

over-whelming need to write something! 

...also this Take Me Home...The Island

J~

...is Poetry

To bleed a heart upon a page

Can be a fearful leap of faith

To taste the flavor of a word

Can juxtapose pleasure and hurt

To free a thought from ivory skull

Can be a tortured push and pull

Commiserated misery

And ecstasy

Is poetry

J~

  

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
― Ernest Hemingway

Of Gossamer Eclipses...

Away, away, the past is laid

In coffers firmly sealed

Afar, afar the future waits

Its mystery unrevealed

But now, but now one moment breathes

A gossamer eclipse

As future becomes present

For one gasp upon our lips

Then it recedes; a silk-spun waft

To time’s elusive crypt

Just as another, whisper-soft

Brushes our finger-tips…

Future to present to the past

The shadow of all three

Coalesce as they are cast

In breaths, to history

Janet Martin

Defining Present...
...inhaling future
exhaling past

 

Friday Thoughts~

When loved ones weigh

Upon my thought

I hold them close

And pray…a lot

When loved ones feel

Too far away

God brings them closer

As I pray

When loved ones wonder

If I care

God hugs them for me

Through my prayer
 

J~

There are so many people I know and dearly love
with heavy burdens to bear...all I can do is lift them up
to God in earnest prayer...
and He will do the rest!
But by His grace go we.

 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Rom.12:12 

His Embrace

A soft May dawn rises to brush

The thunder-cloud awry

Its gold and silver-misted hush

Drapes low against earth’s sigh

And from the throat of bird and breeze

Glad anthems tune the air

Their free, unhindered praises please

The One who placed them there

Lord, tune the measure of my praise

To flow without restraint

Forgive me for my errant gaze

And vain, foolish complaint

Nature in grand perfection blooms

Submissive to your will

As flowers leap from earthen tombs

And leaf to wooded rill

A soft May dawn rises to brush

The past into the mist

His mercy stirs the unmarred hush

Of heaven’s gracious gift

Into my out-stretched palm He pours

Another day of grace

Let me desire nothing more

Than His present embrace

© Janet Martin

 May the words of my mouth 

and the meditation of my heart 

be pleasing in your sight, 

O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

Ps. 19:14

Channels

Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain,
    and a path for the thunderstorm,
 to water a land where no one lives,
    an uninhabited desert,
 to satisfy a desolate wasteland
    and make it sprout with grass?
 Does the rain have a father?
    Who fathers the drops of dew?

Job 38: 25-28

Beneath the tumbled awning

Of a thunder-laden tress

A sudden jolt of dawning

Amplifies our nothingness

How oft have we, with troubled gaze

Traversed unfathomed deeps

Longing to understand the ways

Of One who never sleeps

But as we search the astral plains

From porticos of dust

He cuts a channel for the rains

…all we can do is trust

…in Him, who has a higher thought

Than man can realize

Beneath His touch nature is taught

And man, if he is wise

Beneath the tumbled awning

Of a thunder-laden tress

He whispers to our longing

And He fills our nothingness

© Janet Martin

A Pantoum...Spring Fever

 Poetic Bloomings asks us to try a Pantoum

The PANTOUM consists of a series of quatrains rhyming ABAB, in which the second and fourth lines of a quatrain recur as the first and third line in the succeeding quatrain; each quatrain introduces a new second rhyme as BCBC, CDCD… In the last quatrain, the two unused lines from the opening quatrain are used to fill in the last stanza, with the first line of the poem becomes the last line of the poem (ZAZA). Walt’s example illustrates this traditional form of PANTOUM.

(This sounds just challenging enough to be alluring)

I’ve come down with a sudden fever

Aroused by breezes tumbling through the screen

And I’ve become an old, renewed believer

In words like violet, indigo and green

Aroused by breezes tumbling through the screen

Passion stirs a yearning wanderlust

As words like violet, indigo and green

Draw me to pastures rich with rain-drenched dust

Passion stirs a yearning wanderlust

A longing to return, I know not whence

So I choose pastures, rich with rain-drenched dust

Wiggle like a child, beneath its fence

A longing to return, I know not whence

But Father Time does not restore the past

As now a woman squirms beneath the fence

Content to revel in its shadow cast

Father  Time does not restore the past

So, I’ve become an old, renewed believer

Content to revel in its shadow cast

Oh, I’ve come down with a sudden fever…

© Janet Martin

Hope's Wonder

Do not despair

As petals fall

Returning to the earth

For this is not

Hope’s curtain-call

But its humble re-birth

As sullen soil

Reclaims its fruit

And dust returns to dust

The seed of hope

Remains secure

Beneath this transient crust

For in the bloom

Abides the Source

Although we cannot see

He imbues

In Time’s discourse

Hope’s wonders yet to be

© Janet Martin

 Psalms 103:15 As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.