He is I AM

He is the All-awesome

All-benevolent

All-compassionate

All-delivering

All-eternal

All-faithful

All-gracious

All-holy

All- incarnate

All-justifying

All-knowing

All-loving

All-mighty

All-noteworthy

All-omnipotent

All-powerful

All-quintessential

All-redeeming

All-saving

All-truthful

All-unfathomable

All- victorious

All-worthy

All-xcellent

All-Yahweh

All-zenith

God

He IS ALL in all
He IS I AM

© Janet Martin

Never Like This Again

It will never be this way again

With sentimental thought

I touch the moment I am in

I cannot curse this vapor thief

That steals while it is giving

And heals while inflicting grief

The timbre of pleasure and pain

Is love’s essence, bittersweet

As I realize it will never be like this again

Perpetual trickle of laughter and tears

Time comforts and torments

As moments become years

It will never be like this again

So I caress it tenderly

This moment I am in

© Janet Martin

I grabbed my camera to take a picture of the last morning forever, of three scholars leaving together.

With Veiled Eyes...

God’s thoughts are a mystery

We cannot explain

The reasoning of His perfect say

But someday in Heaven

All will be plain

When this world has vanished away

Life’s tribulation

Its pain and its grief

Are not absences of His grace

But, by these we long

For Heaven’s relief

And eternity’s resting place

The curse of sin

Covers the earth

With many a tortured woe

Redemption offers

Hope’s re-birth

In Calvary’s ceaseless flow

Man’s faith is tested

To be proven; refined

God’s love is oft misunderstood

In spite of our folly

He is faithful and kind

And above all; God is good

Our earth-dimmed vision

Cannot see the whole

We see; but only in part

Through a glass darkly

God sees man’s soul

And the deepest intent of the heart

God’s thoughts are a mystery

We cannot explain

His sacred and holy tears

But someday in Heaven

All will be plain

As the veil in our eyes disappears

© Janet Martin

 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.Isa. 55:8-9 NIV

God is Still Good

In spite of life’s trials

Oft misunderstood

One truth is rock-solid

God is still good

In spite of His chastening

Oft misunderstood

One truth remains

God is still good

In spite of our thanklessness

Our greed and our lust

God’s goodness abides

In Him we trust

In spite of His love

Oft misunderstood

One truth never wavers

God is still good

© Janet Martin

The Sunset Cradle...

Jasmine, demons, window, scrap, ample, montage,
Flawed, granite, trapped, whistle, domain, sunset

This old table in the west window

cradled her sunsets for nigh fifty years

A montage of memories tuned by the whistle

of a January gale trapped on the outside

suddenly arouses pictures of a surface

cluttered with quilt scraps

or potted red geraniums

or perhaps in October 

a granite bowl of gleaming apples

much to eager, rosy cheeked children's delight

Flawed realities have been perfected by the forgiveness of time

No one ever questioned its domain

there, in the west window the old table and an old chair reigned

as from its visage-point jasmine rivers crawled white in June

and demons wandered black on a night with no moon

But history’s ample lap cannot preserve it

as the auctioneer shouts…what am I bid?

Who’ll give me ten? Let me throw in a chair

Ah, yes…. That chair where…
 The bitter sweetness of sunset years washes her face

© Janet Martin

The Sunday Whirl

With Heart wide Open

Too often I do not even notice

This gift you give to me

But trample coldly on it

And I don’t thank you properly

For this miracle of beauty

I ought always to embrace

As your mercy lays before me

Another day of grace

© Janet Martin

Prayer: God, help us to see the beauty of this gift,

Not only now in the calm stillness,

but as the wrapping falls away

as glorious sunrises turn gray

Revealing deeper shades

Of what is as yet, unknown,

When we struggle and stumble
Or feel misunderstood; alone

When we are weary and worn

Let us not abuse or hold this gift

With impatience or scorn

For this gift you lay before us

Is no free-fall from above

It is a miracle, born of compassion

And bestowed in perfect love

Thank-you God

Of Things Cursed

Temptation dangles like a serpent

In an idle, slothful mind

The fruit gleams, sweet upon the tree

As to its vice we're blind

We long to reach and pluck it

Taste its sugar-coated dread

But its afterglow would haunt us

Like vile ghosts inside our head

While the thing that seemed so lovely

Is a curs-ed, empty shell

And the fruit that promised heaven

But a tragic glimpse of hell

For the well of carnal thirsting

Is a void nothing can quench

As the harvest of our tasting

Bears the fruit of consequence

© Janet Martin

Today's Friday Thoughts

Things are merely things

They have no good or evil spirit

It’s what mankind does with them

That defines their worth and merit.

I remember asking my dad when I was a child if such-and-such a thing is bad and I never forgot his answer...He said, ‘things are not bad. Nothing in and of itself is bad or good; it’s what we do with them that makes ‘things’ what they are. ‘Things’ have the potential for both…it’s up to us to choose how to use them!’

We cannot blame ‘things’ for our weaknesses

Things obey the command of the hands they are in

Hands obey thought
and thought, oh thought…

How prone you are

To sin

What a mighty sword we wield

Held in our thought

Prayer is its protective shield

If used a lot

It seems I hear a constant voice

And I believe its name is Choice

God, I prayed for patience…I’m still waiting for your answer…

Jesus loves me this I know

I looked into a flower

And it told me so…

© Janet Martin

Of Summer

Our first day of summer was a moody one! It began, hot, heavy and sunny before thunderstorms moved through bringing a slight cool-down and a sunset master-piece. 

Soon the gold that warms the sod

Withdraws its sultry sheen

And world’s transformed by thoughts of God

Will lose their verdant green

Too soon the lark of summer-song

Will fly off to the south

And all these hours for which we long

Devoured in Time’s mouth

Of summer

Too soon the room of July mirth

And flowers fair and sweet

Will shed their bloom back to earth

A dead rose at our feet

The shifting wave that lilts and moans

And beckons from the shore

Will heave with moody undertones

Closing the wanton door

Of summer

Ah, life will always have its share

Of care and tares and trouble

So dance upon hope's buoyant air

Before dreams turn to stubble

And you should turn with sudden grief

To see upon the hill

A silhouette of crimson leaf

And echoing quadrille

Of summer

© Janet Martin

Make this summer’s first week-end memorable!

Get out there and drink it in

Time is a tumbling water-wheel

And too soon it is over again!

I kid the kids sometimes and tell them we have two seasons at our house…Winter and potlucks!

Does anyone have any fresh pot-luck ideas? I’m stumped and it’s just June! I need food for tomorrow and a ladies’ tea-party dessert for Sunday.

The Shape of a Memory

Don’t forget me, he said,

And he slipped away

As God laid a satin spread

Across the sky to close the day

Coral-pink and amber-gold,

The ocean in her eye

Is more than firm resolve can hold

While he whispers good-by

A thousand moments blend and blur

Then slip beyond life’s reach

She wonders, does he think of her

On thought’s elusive beach

Don’t forget me, his farewell plea

Whispers in her ear

She holds the shape of memory

Within her smile; her tear

© Janet Martin

This poem's inspiration is due in part to an awesome sunset tonight and watching Ann of Green Gables in the continuing story.

Thursday Thoughts on Grudges

Holding on to grudges

Elongates grief and bitterness

Letting them go shrinks old wounds

And heals, by time’s caress

Holding on to grudges

Hurts our children

As we deny them the example

Of forgiveness

Holding on to grudges

Is like clinging to a briar-tree

There is no relief from the pain

Holding on to grudges

Robs you of the freedom

To reach out to others

Holding on to grudges

Is energy and opportunity wasted

Holding on to grudges is like drinking poison.

You kill joy

Holding on to grudges

Never works to our good

For we cannot hold a grudge

And still love as we should

If you insist on holding a grudge

Be sure you know the deal

As bitterness can bleed the life from you

And only forgiveness can heal

Grudges are often amplified misunderstandings

Grudges are the fruit of miscommunication

Grudges grow if clung to and die if released

Life is short. Don’t waste it nurturing weeds

A grudge protected and preserved drops dark and evil seeds

Holding on to grudges
depletes us of strength to let go

Holding on to grudges strengthens
our weaknesses

Holding on to grudges
Drains us of
love
thanksgiving
hope
joy
patience
peace

Holding on to grudges
fills us
with everything
contrary to
Love

© Janet Martin

Immaculate Intercession

Sometimes it seems that I do not know how I ought to pray

The words are sealed within my thought; I don’t know what to say

But there is nothing hid from God; He knows our creature needs

He hears our deep unspoken thought and gently intercedes

My praise, my pleas, my tears, my fears, in deep emotions swell

Disappointment and dismay in desperate oceans well

Tonight there are no words to give this world of thought release

But suddenly I know He heard; I feel Him whisper ‘Peace’

© Janet Martin

Are We Ready?

Mary, your poem inspired these thoughts immediately as I pondered your words. There is no escaping physical death!

If God should knock upon the door of planet earth tonight

And hand each one of us a robe of lucent, deathly white

And if, before we had a moment to accept it or decline

Our feet were lifted from this sod to elements divine

Would we be ready?

If He should require from our breath but this; our living soul

As dust-wrought limbs succumb to death; and timeless Fathoms roll

If He should reach to take our hands within His nail-scarred own

And draw us from our trembling stance to meet Him at His throne

Would we be ready?

If we looked up to see upon the clouds, the Son of Man

If we lay down to wake in portals far beyond earth’s span

If tonight we heard a knock and opened our cottage door

To see Him standing there to lift us from this stricken shore

Would we be ready?

Time and life; two awesome gifts but each with numbered day

Grace and love; two awesome truths that never fade away

Jesus Christ: one awesome God forever with no end

You and I, one life, one death; will we be ready, friend?

Are we ready?

© Janet Martin

Time's Swift Ride...a Sonnet

 Image Source: http://www.friesianheritage.com/

The window to the night is open wide

The earth; a silver chariot bathed in mist

I cannot sleep; thought beckons me to ride

An invitation I cannot resist

The moonlight bleeds a mellow, yellow glow

Before it slips into the onyx deep

A mystic vault where time and eons flow

In rivers formed by moments as they weep

And from its shores the stirring of a breeze

Ruffles June’s verdant maple canopies

Time, like an eager, dancing, prancing stead

Urges us on against our meager will

And though we beckon, barter, beg and plead

It rushes, even while the night is still

And every azure gasp of summer’s noon

Each pulse as pain and pleasure interlace

And every bursting bud of mortal June

Will flow into this vault of ethereal space

And all that was today will be no more

History seals the gates to its vast shore

Once, on a younger day its rush was sweet

We leapt upon this phantom stallion’s back

But now the bounding, pounding of his feet

Have trampled far too soon life’s beaten track

The window to the night is open wide

I catch the tempo of a languid tone

Akin to echoes on a mountain-side

Of mother calling all her children home

And to this plaintive call I must reply

For life is small beneath Time’s little sky

© Janet Martin

 

I Wanna Live- Glen Campbell

Oh, What Then?

We observe in astonishment

Man’s newest accomplishment

And wonder what will follow

Scientists place

Their cameras in space

As we glimpse infinity’s hollow

Medicine keeps the dying alive

But no matter how we study and strive

We cannot touch the order

Of God-ordained things

Or alter the courses

His authority brings

Mornings will ever succeed the night

Two wrongs will never make a right

We all get older with each passing hour

And none are exempt from His grace or His power

No one can order the rain from the sky

There is no invention so we will not die

We cannot shuffle seasons in nature or man

Or rearrange one molecule of His plan

For He IS God, we are merely men

We are born, we die; and oh, what then?

Perhaps we ought to take a closer look

At His Word and teaching of His Book

For nothing will happen that He has not told

His truths are unfolding since centuries of old

Knowledge is admiral; His gift to men

But if we ignore the Giver; oh, what then?

  

© Janet Martin

Outer space images fill me with utter wonderment and awe!

How GREAT is our God.

He has given men the knowledge to glimpse infinity, but we CANNOT add one jot to TIME!

Time is a wee capsule...what then?

Oh, that's right! Eternity.

But His Book shows us the way to Him eternally. He did not leave us as sheep without a Shepherd for He IS love.

Just as I Am- B.J. Thomas

How in this World are Yours?

We cannot add moments to moments

No matter how wildly we rush

Life is a tick by tock delving

Before vast eternity’s hush

If we could unclench today’s portion

What would we find in its grip?

Would it be a hallowed awareness

Of transient moments that slip?

God, teach me how to live fully

Not burdened by moments unmet

Lest I miss the present unfolding

And thus fill its hold with regret

...and stir in me flames of passion

Not roused  by the gathering of things

But the gathering of beautiful moments

That pure, purposed living brings

Granules of sand form the desert

Drops form the depths of the sea

And moments form hours then lifetimes

Dissolved in eternity

Life is a grace-lent experience

A moment by moment lease

Do we choose a frenzied endurance

Or moment by moment peace?

© Janet Martin

The Hand of Experience

Experience wields a painful rod

It frustrates foolish notion

Training its students tirelessly

In spite of frayed emotion

Experience wields a patient scepter

No student is too old

To learn the lessons in this classroom

Where unbidden, we’re enrolled

Experience wields a wise baton

For in each vexing stumble

It snuffs our aptness for conceit

And helps to keep us humble

© Janet Martin

His Passion

Passion; it formed the universe

Dividing Day and Night

It clothed the earth in miracles

And filled the dark with light

It placed in Eden’s garden

A woman and a man

And in the passion of their greed

Man’s greatest need began

Passion; it burns in mortal loins

In searing, selfish lust

It feeds the greed of sinful seed

And taints the wanton dust

Ten thousand-thousand altars built

Ten thousand-thousand flames

Could not redeem our wretched guilt

Or wash away our shame

Passion; it burned in Holy Wrath

And filled God’s heart with grief

To see the nations of the earth

Blinded in unbelief

It tore through Heaven’s glory

A fire born of Love

Compelling Him to leave the throne

His Passion’s depth to prove

Passion; it clothed I AM in flesh

To walk a skull-strewn path

While we drove nails through holy limbs

He prayed on our behalf

Passion; it bled from guiltless wounds

It poured in agony

To save mankind from death and hell

He died to set us free

Oh can we ever comprehend

A Passion such as this

That He should cover our sin

In Holy Righteousness

Passion; it fills the law of grace

Extending Time’s last plea

Passion; it saves the human race

From hell’s eternity

Janet Martin

Poetic Bloomings Prompt: Burning Passion

A Sonnet of Barred Shutters and Storms

Pale whispers sweep the dark to hidden shores,

Staid expectation murmurs on its lips,

but we have drawn the shutters, locked the doors,

Time will not dictate our fingertips,

for I must make a study of your eyes,

tracing the future of unfettered bliss

While yearning resonates in muted sighs,

I hunger for the flavor of your kiss.

Too long the regimental tick of clocks

has orchestrated the release of locks

Longing shatters the dam of rigidness;

The beauty of familiarity

enriches passion’s unrestrained caress,

Outside the day assumes normality…

…here oceans swell in unrequited fire

of flesh and blood; white horses of the sea

spawn unbridled indulgence and desire

We crown the pinnacle of ecstasy

while merchants, bound by meagerness of dust

redeem their petty dollars for its lust

Pale whispers escalate, intensify,

A quickened urgency ignites the calm

in raging rivers crashing from the sky

as heaven spills its timbre on earth’s palm.

Outside the servant treads toil’s beaten path

and dreams of recompense with glist’ning brow,

while here, we revel in the aftermath

of foaming tides receding from earth’s prow

The sky resumes a sleek, unwav’ring blue

We kiss away its salty residue

 Janet Martin

Poetic Bloomings Prompt: Burning Passion

Dear Little Children of Three

We fall in love with them constantly

Innocence coupled with mischievous glee

Carefree perfection and curiosity

Dear, little children of three

Sunshine spills from these eager tots

Wonderment fills their guile-less thoughts

Unhindered by living’s ‘what-are-nots’

Dear, little children of three

Flurry of chatter and childish kiss

Living each moment just as it is

Lord, give me faith as pure as this

Dear, little children of three

© Janet Martin

The little guy I baby-sit turns three today. I took him with me to pick up a few groceries.

When we told the cashier that one item is his ‘birthday treat, she asked him ‘how old?’ Without setting down his tub of ju-jubes he slowly and proudly popped up three fingers and grinned. INSTANT POPULARITY!

BUT…as I am writing this he just re-appeared. He is supposed to be napping! ‘not sleepy’ is his verdict…ah yes, those dear little children of three;))...right now he is waiting for the kids to come home from school...I told him 'any minute', and yes, here they are! Gotta go! There is a birthday to celebrate!

Of Lulls and Such...

Now the sunrise

Has dissolved

In yellow on the street

The azure hull

Of mid-day’s lull

Arouses rippled heat

The eager breeze

Hides in the trees

Among its leafy tress

The glistening brow

Coveting now

Her cool and kind caress

The morning rush

Dies in the hush

Of sweltering high noon

And all is still

Save for the trill

Of song-bird’s lilting tune

Now the urgency

Of having

Eases its duress

The heart is full

As living’s lull

Extends a kind caress

The eager gleam

Of spring-tide’s dream

Is filled with wisdom’s glow

As summer fades

And autumn shades

Suggest a hint of snow

Middle-age rush

Dies in the hush

Of twilight’s gentle breeze

The heart is still

Save for the trill

Of precious memories

© Janet Martin

My Columbian Love

I cannot resist you

As I embrace your warmth

Craving your brawny essence

Darling, there is none like you

Weak imitations make me laugh

As I inhale your richness

Knowing your bliss

Will not disappoint me

My lips seek your fullness

Slowly, purposefully

I draw you in and hold

Your perfection on my tongue

Before your robust passion

 Satisfies me
Completely

Ah Maxwell, you and I

Make beautiful music together

J~

Every so often I gain a new appreciation for the blessing of

COFFEE!

Poetic Bloomings Prompt: Burning Passion

God is Good

Creation groans, the world is fraught

With turmoil, hate and grief

It longs for peace, but there is naught

As doubt spawns unbelief

But still, one truth steadfastly reigns

Though oft misunderstood

In spite of evil’s corrupt gains

God is good

Since Adam’s fall mankind must toil

And till the cursed dust

Sorrow’s fruit leaps from the soil

Stained with our sin and lust

Yet, over mortal’s hopeless pall

We see a cross of wood

Where Living Hope declares to all

God is good

Though hatred wields its fearful sword

Feigning death’s victory

Though many curse creation’s Lord

Denying Deity

Above, beneath, without, within

The power of His blood

Flows ceaselessly for our sin

God is good

© Janet Martin

It Is No Secret-Jim Reeves

 

Impossible Undoing

If there was an undoing of certain things

I would gently loosen time’s tempered strings

And trace the scars that it has left

As I lay my head upon your chest

Then as past and present blend

Once more, you would be my friend

Moonlight seeps through the shutter-crack

A golden ladder on your back

Midnight is master of its craft

It strikes a current in the draft

And moans a haunting, sad refrain

Of things that will not pass again

A moment has no time to spare

It dangles briefly on the air

Before it slips into the past

Its latch secure and iron cast

The racket of our turmoil swept

Into the vaults where it is kept

It there was an undoing of certain things

My trembling fingers would loosen its strings

Slipping love’s sorrow from your chest

And we would leave its cloak to rest

While hours strike, one, two, three, four

Upon a sweet, forgotten shore

J~

The Sunday Whirl

Budding Expectation

Adrenaline rush

A mental hush

A pulsing intimacy

Eyes closed

Juxtaposed

Against vivid imagery

Beneath my skin

Somewhere within

A budding mystery

A whispered kiss

Expectant bliss

The bud of poetry

© Janet Martin

Enjoy the Ride

Like a thought or a moment

Slipping skyward

While daylight dissolves

On dusk’s tongue

Is the carefree hour

Of youth

On the stage of middle-age

We sense

A merciless turning of page

And keen, echoing

Declarations

Of truth

We cannot stem the flow

Of thought or moments

They come, they go

And all we can do, as we're caught in its tide

Is hang on for dear life

And enjoy the ride

© Janet Martin

 We had a family reunion today...LOTS of ages present to celebrate my oldest sister's B-day...and it struck me as I looked at all the teenagers how BRIEF their 'forever young' years are(and there is no way they can know it)! Seriously, at that age we are all going to be young for a LONG time;))

Some Dads...

Some dads are really, really cool, and some are really smart,
Some dads barely went to school but still have big soft hearts,
Some dads stand up straight and tall and look all sober-like
As if they’ve never thrown a ball or raced on their old bike,
Some dads like to tease and wink and some dads laugh a lot,
I guess, I suppose, it depends, I think, on how many bills they’ve got,
‘Cause dad says, as long as the bills keep a-comin’,
He’ll have to get up an’ keep on a-workin’,
And God bless the dad that keeps on a-hummin’
Even when the bills keep a-comin’

Some dads make lots of money and some, I’ve heard, are broke,
Some say things like sweetheart and honey and some dads never joke,
Some dads work from dawn ‘til dark with little time to play,
Some take their children to the park and some just go away,
Some dads work so very hard so mother can stay home,
Some dads are so very tired, when at last they come,
But, God bless the dad, who at the end of his day
Still gets down on his knees to pray,
And God bless the faithful dad who
Teaches his little ones to pray too

Some dads are really big and tough, while some are short and thin,
Some dads are kinda’ rough and some are gentlemen,
Some dad’s hair is curly and some dad’s hair is gray,
Some don’t really worry ‘cause their hair has gone away,
Some dads drive pick-ups shiny and new, some say any wheels will do,
As long as it takes me to work and such, and the insurance on it isn’t too much,
Some dads whistle and some dads sing,
At home some dads feel as rich as a king,
But for one thing I sure am glad,
God knew how much we’d need some dads

Some dads read God’s word every night, some never read at all,
Some dads teach us wrong from right to guide us lest we fall,
And some dads are a little like God, I suppose,
‘Cause through trial and error this dad knows
Though hearts be broken and sometimes need mending,
A father’s love is never-ending,
And God bless the dad whose love never fails,
When the going gets bad, love still prevails,
Thus, for one thing I sure am glad, God knew how much we’d need some dads,
Some dads’ sure leave big shoes to fill but the One who guides them will be there still,
Someday, when someone says they’re glad God knew how much we’d need some dads

Janet Martin

I wrote this a few years ago for Father's Day

On Second Miles

Second miles may cause us to groan

For they tug us from our comfort zone

It is in the second miles we trod

That we touch the hand of God

Second miles are not traveled by obligation, force or fear

But they are the miles that prove

Our testimony, loud and clear

Of love

Love is patient, love is kind

It does not seek its own

And oft its dark and second mile

Is seen by God alone

Second miles in life

Do not further our own causes

But if, in faith we walk them

Their beauty may surprise us

Second miles are not reserved

For either the gifted or the common

But they draw out of mortal crowds

The very best of them

Lift up your chin, take heart and smile

Love begins in the second mile

Walk with the one who needs a hand

Alone we fall, together we stand

Jesus, how thankful I am

You walked that mile for me

And oh, its blood-stains led me to

A place called Calvary

If we would follow Him

In authenticity

Then we will walk those second miles

For His sake, willingly

What blessing we forfeit

What joy we discard

If second miles we forsake

Because they are too hard

Take heart, oh traveler of the second mile

It will all be over in life’s little while

Then oh, how sweet our rest will be

At Jesus feet for eternity

© Janet Martin

 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.  If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.  Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

Matt. 5:38-42

Oh Still the Hastening Bloom

Oh, still the hastening bloom

That crowns the summer’s day

I must hold its tender fold

Before it fades away

Oh, still the ticking clock

That peals the quickened hour

I must pause a bit because

I need to smell the flower

Oh, still the sassy breeze

That steals its fragrant leaf

And tucks to earth arboreal birth

With not one tear of grief

Oh, still the hastening bloom

Too soon its petals weep

For they as I, bud, bloom, then die

Restored to Heaven’s keep

© Janet Martin

Inside a birthday card I received she wrote ‘Bloom where you’re planted’.

On my run yesterday morning I was struck by the beauty in the wildflowers simply ‘blooming where they are planted’.

On Disappointment

 Image Source: quotepictures.net

Disappointment’s not the end

It is just a painful bend

In the road to future’s destiny

Disappointment’s not our fate

It just means we have to wait

God alone knows what must be will be

Disappointment’s not vile spite

To restrain us in our fight

Or to snuff our song is never its intent

But disappointment makes us strong

Though it hurts and feels so wrong

It often leaves us wiser in the end

Disappointment’s hidden good

Is oh, so oft misunderstood

Until miles down the road we turn to see

Forsaken dreams strewn in the dust

No longer near and dear to us

For God alone knew what was meant to be

© Janet Martin

I have a friend who experienced keen disappointment last night as he did not make it to the finals in the local singer/songwriter's competition. It was his first public competition and he learned a lot from it. ...'and you will by okay, my friend, because this was the beginning, not the end:)'