Routines

Work, laugh, love
Sleep, eat, pray
And so the moments
Slip away
Always preparing
Methodically
For winter…
…and eternity

Janet

I am washing and putting the screens
back into the windows today.
It feels like I just took them out
in preparation for winter
and a thought occurred to me…

Is life not mostly a routine of preparation?
Planting, toiling gathering…
Working, buying, using…
Sleeping, planning, hoping…
…for what?

Key-hole

If ever……. through the million peep-holes
In the navy vaulted dome
Like a grand door full of key-holes
If ever God said, "Come"
And He would give us one wee glimpse
Through the key-hole of the Earth
And we would see the vastness of
The entire universe
And far beyond there stood ajar
A glorious shining gate
Where all eternal glories are
Where God and Heaven wait………
Then if He gently turned our head
For just the briefest glance
At what will be our doom instead
If we deny His chance
If ever we saw…..
how transformed our logic then would be
As we stand in awe of Him
……….and eternity

Janet~

Maelstrom

Maelstrom of emotion
Rising in me
Storm on an ocean
Of melancholy

Time may steal moments
Hours and such
But cannot tear from me
The want of your touch

Sadness and laughter
Weep on the same breeze
These are the essence
Of memories

Milk-white blossoms
Laden with dew
Are soon withered petals
On time’s avenue

Maelstrom of emotion
Gleams in my eye
I brush its ocean
And you, from my sigh

J~

Eventide

Stalwart outlines pivot towards the western sky
Smoky brush-strokes rivet the upward eye
While whispers gather in the thickening air
Tugging at my heart-strings like a prayer

Under tattered remnants of the noon
I see the pale, white crescent of the moon
I study the path that flows toward the sea
I stand betwixt what was and what will be

Still-life painting wafts above the day
Its aching splendor soothes our cares away
Silence claims the restlessness inside
I revel in spring’s glorious eventide

Janet~

I really wished I had my camera on my way home tonight…
The sky was a constantly evolving panorama.

Above the Law

If there were laws in poetry
I would not write
If there were perimeters
To bind me
I would fight
For poetry is a whisper of the soul
A well-spring of passion
Which law cannot control
And rules would steal
The freedom
Of the floundering pen
Poetry would thus be
Stilted expectations
Conformed to laws of men
If there were rules to follow
I would not be
A lover of the art
Of poetry

Janet~

Warm

You spread over me
Warm
as a robe of flesh
As close as your heart-beat
Raging agony,
You and I enmeshed
In every way
but one; bitter-sweet
Distance fills the air
For I am here
and you are there

J~

Reasons

Why, at the change of seasons
Do I feel a sense of loss?
In words there are no reasons
Just an aching without cause
As over phantom ridges
Another season slips
Rushing under bridges
Beyond my finger-tips
A-kin to that gray feeling
As I see you walk away
With moments glibly stealing
Twixt today and yesterday
You fade into the distance
I watch you walk into the blue
While a wave of moody dissonance
Wraps me in thoughts of you
Why, at the turn of seasons
Do I hear the breezes weeping?
Could it be they know the reasons
Held in vaults beyond my keeping?

Janet~

In Him

In the flesh we are
Masterminds of desecration
In the Spirit God can makes us
A wonderful creation

In the flesh we are
Victims of sad decay
In the Spirit we will live
With Him in Heaven someday

Janet~

Perfect Unity

We come together now
I, in anticipation
You, expressionless and brown

My heart races with expectation
I touch you reverently
With soft smiles of elation

You say nothing at all
But I am not distressed
As dreams and small seeds fall

In you I bury my little sorrows
As hope takes root
For brighter tomorrows

We come together now
In quiet understanding
I plant; you grow

You; my earthly heaven
Palace made of dirt
Such is my garden

Janet~

The Beauty of the Lord

I know the beauty of our Lord
By all His wondrous works out-poured
The intricate and rare design
Of blue-bell, rose and columbine
The leaf that bursts from wooded bud
The shower that spawns an emerald flood
As out across each hill and plain
The muddy dross is green again
The bird returning to its nest
No map to point it east or west
The earth no more a dormant plot
As daisy and for-get-not
Clothe the wood-lot and the dell
Where yesterday the snowflakes fell
As hope and flower blooms anew
In spring-time’s sun-kissed avenue
I know the beauty of the Lord
As seed springs from a soil restored
Where thankful gardeners hug the sod
And the handiwork of God

Janet~

This was inspired by starting the lawn-mower.
It is now officially spring!
We are still waiting for
The ‘roses, blue-bells, columbines’
But the first almost full day of sun after two weeks of
Rain and cloud causes one to reflect on the beauty of spring…
…even if it is still FREEZING!

What's in a Name?

As the syllables and letters which form our names
Roll off another tongue
What do you suppose is the foremost thing
That makes this name our own?
Is the name they speak synonymous
With kindness and contentment?
Or is its tone more ominous?
A harsh and sad resentment

If one should speak our name today
Would its resonance
Warm them in a tender way
And cause their thoughts to dance?
Or would it like a weight of steel
Press heavy on their frame?
I wonder how most people feel
When they hear my name…

Janet~