We Shall Endure

The Hand that paints upon the air

Keeps us in His tender care.

My eyes fill with tears

As my thoughts fill with prayer

The unknown with its fear

Threatens doubt and despair

But we have His promises

To comfort; reassure

And there by His goodness

We shall endure

To win or succeed

We cannot succumb

To thoughts of defeat

Though our spirit grows numb

Our God is infallible

And we are secure

In Him; All-powerful

We shall endure

My heart fills with hope

As my thoughts fill with Him

When we cannot cope

And our vision grows dim

We lift our petitions

To Love perfect; pure

Then, by His will and wisdom

We shall endure

Nothing is impossible

To God; He beholds

And works our trouble

Into mysteries of gold

We see only glimpses

But we know for sure

That as God is our witness

We shall endure

© Janet Martin

Written for my dear friends far away who need our prayers desperately…

…for their protection I cannot reveal their names, location or specific needs, but God knows.

Please pray for them, that they may be granted wisdom and safety as they face vast Unknowns.

Invisible Poetry

I write your whispers on a page

Where only thought can see

The master-piece arrangements

Of love’s perfect poetry

I keep your secret sentiments

Within my tender tear

In scripts of un-penned poetry

Where only thought can hear

I share your silent sorrow

In slow-motion reveal  

On tidal-waves of poetry

Where only thought can feel

I wrap your sigh around me
An iridescent glow
Of poetry and passion
Where only thought can know

J~

The Art of Preservation

You trickle through my thought; a soothing sigh

A gold leaf etched against the azure sky

Before it falls in soft, soundless descent

To sleep upon the grass, peaceful, content

And there you rest in strongholds of my heart

Where we will never, ever be
Apart

Miles sweep the landscape; highways, hills and trees

Nature's paintbrush creating breath-taking boundaries

But thought ignores the  visual ramparts of the flesh

As it implores;  love, loss, longing enmesh

Their tenure in the fabric of the heart

Where will never, ever be
Apart

J~

Perspective...

There are things in life I quite despise

In which others find delight

Attitude shapes perspective

in life’s peculiarities

that are neither wrong

nor right

© Janet Martin

You should have heard them!

They were having a grand old time

In the tree I LOATHE,

It’s demise has been on our to-do list

for a year! But ‘the wood-cutter’ is hardly ever here!

As I 'clicked' the photo they rose in unison and flew away...chatter, chatter, chatter:)

Of Dew-drops, Threads and other Transient Miracles

This can be read as individual sonnets or as one entire poem

We cannot place a cup beneath Time’s spout

To garner moments dripping to the air

September swoons; its triumph and despair

A taste of bitter sweetness in the mouth

Of what has passed, what is and what will be

Desire and dismay; dissonant blend

As we are torn twixt beginning and end

A soulful song of clashing symmetry

Who can foretell a season’s destiny

Of tender greeting and tearful farewell?

Love’s blissful joy is sorrow’s infancy

The nucleus of autumn’s parting knell

A bud cannot be hastened into flower

Nor bloom beyond its brief allotted hour

***

Soundless, the leaf-note drops from choirs spent

Silent the foot-falls of a summer pass

Yet, there is not a drop within the glass

We lift to snare its transient filament

The cup of grief and gladness overflows

Its wine pressed from life’s fair and finest field

Bravely we drink its blood and honey yield   

Clenching its agonies; the thorn, the rose

We cannot choose; the beggar or the king

What life imbues beyond our meager touch

The vanity of man can never clutch

The Power holding Time’s elusive string

But common flesh treads humble common sod

Where everything is nothing without God

***

The grasp of life’s profound fragility

Demands a keen awareness of the thread

That separates the living from the dead

Translucent strand holding eternity

September’s dew lays heavy on earth’s brow

Its dazzling shroud a brief and transient sheath

As Time inhales its gleam with eager breath

And we inhale the startling gasp of Now

This pulsing path will never reimburse

One moment of its pleasure or its pain

Thus, we absorb its tender-sweet refrain

Within its plaintive music we immerse

Our senses; faith and fear conflict, align

In this brief foot in front of foot design

***

The Storehouse of Time’s portioned mysteries

Dispersed in moment-drops upon this sphere

Sparkling in our laughter and our tear

Is but a microscopic speck of centuries

Our feeble minds can never comprehend

The brevity of this four-season glance

Though three-score years and ten we dream and dance

Or four score years and more; its wink will end

As summer folds into the arms of fall

And youth progresses into middle-age

To contemplate life’s turning of the page

With hastened disregard for summer’s call

We recognize anew life’s Higher Pow’r

For Time is but the dew on Heaven’s flow’r

© Janet Martin

A Daybreak Hymn of Hope...Sonnet of Fair Morning

Oh, praise the sacred Hand that rends the veil

And does not leave us pining in the dark

But pours His lavish grace from mercy’s Grail

To pierce the night with Hope’s expanding spark

Lift up with gladness your worship to Him

Lest stones cry out to sing His ardent praise

Oh feel the pulse of midnight growing dim

The thickened gloom dissolves beneath His gaze

The Oracle of Deity imparts

His wonderment of Light to fainting hearts

Lift up the feeble measure of your faith

He imbues doleful shadows with His pow’r

As yesterday, a whilom, lifeless wraith

Can never force its fear upon the hour

But virgin Hope expels the dismal deep

In canvases of morning, pure, unmarred

Oh, hear the tender Shepherd call His sheep

The Door into His fold is never barred

And if we listen we can hear His voice

Above the ceaseless clamoring of choice  

This thorn and thistle, toil and trial span

Is but a zephyr-gasp upon earth’s plain

No test is borne uncommon unto man

Yet Hope prevails in spite of grief and pain

A new Dawn waits; its glory is the Son

Earth’s daybreak but a whisper of His might

Soon our little sojourn here is done

And death is but the gateway to His Light

We point our faces to a better home

As Heaven breathes to earth ‘Shalom, Shalom’

© Janet Martin

Once More the Daylight Fades Away...

Once more the daylight fades away

With darkness overtaken

The canvas where we gently lay

Our dreams until we waken

The hidden hope of things to come

Must bide until tomorrow

As night becomes the stepping-stone

To gladness or to sorrow

This day has ceased; its cloak forlorn

Is claimed by subtle fingers

They hover now to wake the morn

Where deepened onyx lingers

The highs and lows, the smiles and woes

Of trial and error tumbles

Go now where every hour goes

In slipping swirls and stumbles

The solace of night’s tranquil grace

The aura of surrender

Enfolds us in a calm embrace

And whispers soft and tender

Once more the daylight fades away

Beneath the raven tresses

On the horizon waits the day

Which now the night caresses

© Janet Martin

Master of Persuasion

A half-breath ago youth sparkled

And fell ‘neath the spell of your charm

I was a carefree dreamer

Laughing as you tugged my arm

Now from the deepening meadow

I hear a plaintive call

As I peer into gathering shadows

To the hearth of an early fall

To the hearth of an early fall

Somewhere in your foot-fall of moments

You drew the bud from the limb

Unfolding it into a flower

As leaf-notes became a hymn

And the dreamer became a mother

With children to answer her call

While you were her endless summer

No thought of an early fall

No thought of an early fall

Gently your touch reassures me

That faithfully, you’ll hold my hand

To the end of a road growing narrow

Through a dark and foreign land

Time; grand master of persuasion

With subtle enticement you call

Urging me on from the summer

To the hearth of an early fall

To the hearth of an early fall

© Janet Martin

Tonight on my run I noticed the brush of fall

against the woodland that seemed to have been in bud only yesterday...

The Price of Love

I cannot be

Carefree

Anymore

Because

I love you

…but oh,

What a beautiful care

to bear

J~

September Thursday Thoughts

We lead, not by words

Fluent and ample

But by the element

Of Example

***

Habits make

Or break us

***

There is no such thing

As a tiny

Sin

***

Oh the wearying of worry

Futile grief

Powerless passions

Of unbelief

Oh the power of praying

Whispers of dust

Fly like an eagle

On wings of Trust

***

Worry and longing

Two grand wastrels

Of life

***

Why do you gaze in sorrow

To unreachable Past

There is a River of Moments flowing

To its ocean vast

We cannot reclaim the vapor

Of a bygone sigh

But savor the sweet nectar

Of Now slipping by

***

Lord, make our greatest passion

Com-passion

***

We fill our wanton chalice

With fruit of deed

Will its wine be garnered

From Need or Greed

***

I planted a seed

It grew; it bloomed

By God’s grace and mercy

I am not consumed 

***

When we fill the air

With patient prayer

It dissolves dark clouds

Of despair

***

Oh God, trusting You is so much easier

Said than done

But in our constant dependence

Life’s vilest battles are won

***

We cannot rend the veil

Twixt Known and Unknown

But, nor can we fail

With God’s hand on our own

***

Time, the trickle

Of Mortality

Flowing toward

Eternity 

***

Oh glorious thought

that sets us free

By the grace of God

go we...

***

NOW

is the only thing of worth

Spend it wisely.

Janet~

Perfect Peace

The loss and lament of yesterday

Has come and gone

The coral gleam of hope imbues

The trembling dawn

We lift our eyes unto the hills

Where none have trod

As the Unknown softly spills

From hands of God

His grace; sufficient for today

It wavers not

There is no Unknown in I AM

No hidden thought

And yet His love exceeds our need

And come what may

We trust the One who paints the dawn

On shades of gray

© Janet Martin

Thrill-seekers

In the thrill of the hunt for a perfect wave

The surfer’s passion is stirred

The poet knows; as it scans thought’s seas

For the power of a perfect word

J~

Of Hidden Seas...

                                                          Image Source: Free Foto.com

Oh, world of words that tumble

Where only thought can see

You rise and fall, you ebb and flow

In passions wild and free

You crash against the boulders

Or melt upon a shore

In master-piece arrangements

You beg, plead and implore

You tease the purple quiet

You please, torment, revere

And whisper loud the heart’s full schemes

Where only thought can hear

Oh world of words, an ocean

Without shadow, essence, form

Brewing, insipid, lusterless   

An unrequited storm

But oh, unfathomed reaches

As you shatter thought’s traverse

Spilling your tenure to the air

In blessing…or in curse

© Janet Martin

In Love...

I cannot dole out

The epitome

...of Being

Love cannot be measured, divided

Withheld or extolled

...in portions

Therefore it is impossible

To love you

…only a little

Intention falls by the wayside
A useless garment

...in your arms

The filament of flesh

Becomes bearable

...after all

J~

In Spite of It All...I Love You

When the shortcomings of Reality

Steal my breath

And foolish fantasy

Is not enough

To make up the difference

…I love you

When the curves of your wanderlust

Do not align

In any shape or form

With mine

And I am baffled by its design

…I love you

When the matters of Fact

Will not be swayed

As they scramble awry

My plans well-laid

Because life’s just that way

...I love you

When every thing we could be

Is nothing more

Than everything we should be

In life’s crazy war

Of misconception and muse

…I love you

…because I refuse to stop

Dancing, reaching, yearning

In this flight of

No returning from

Whence we’ve come

And because it is not good

To go where we are going

Alone…

…I love you

© Janet Martin

Wisteria, Blue Moons and other Loves

September's Song...Mantovani

It is not my intent

To shut you out

Blue moon of half-grin

As you drift to the south

Above silver bracken

And the rushing of time

Teasing the tendrils

Of wisteria vine

I would rather fling wide

The pane I shut tight

For the cricket choir

Is in top form tonight

Where the chill air keens

The lust in its swell

As I sense the presage

Of a season’s farewell

I long to draw you

Through this shield of glass

To keep you warm

As the fleet moments pass

But you must submit

To nature’s stringent pull

The hour will not quit

When its portion is full

…and I must surrender

To resist is vain

As I tug on the window

To keep out the pain

Of the cool night sweeping

Over time-swept plateau

And the throb of its weeping

In gossamer flow

© Janet Martin

Last night I felt like I should apologize as I was forced to close the windows to its beautiful CHILL!.

Pennsylvania-Dutch Love Poem

Vos is des ding as mich so fershtroyed

Uns macht mich so liecht-kebich

My gedanka sin fatsuttled; net oof dei orbiet

Un auft bin ich dobich un lobich

Von du neagsht fabigh mich laffsht

Udda von du tighte navich mich schlaffsht

Ich fraug fa nix mehna fuun dich

Yischt es du mich net falausht

Bis de Gott im Himmel ruft

un Err cummt fa dich uttah mich

Gealt kon net kauffa vos liebe em gebbt

Un meah sin net orm binannah

Shtoft is yischt shtoft; es harcht em net aub

Un es glebbet vee so alte kannah

Liebe hault em froh un frei

Gott hault uns naegsht debigh

Meah sin bessah oub vee de reichah

Von meah net fagessah

Fah Gott bedanka

Un anannah yischt immah gliechah

Translation…

What is this thing that scatters me so

And makes me so light-headed

My thoughts are scrambled; not on my work

And often I am clumsy and crazy

When you closely walk by me

Or sleep tightly beside me

I ask for nothing more from you

Just that you will not leave me

Until God in Heaven calls

And He comes for you or me

Money cannot buy what love gives

And we are not poor together

Stuff is just stuff; it will not listen

And it clatters like old tin cans

Love keeps us glad and free

God keeps us close to Him

We are better off than rich folk

If we do not forget

To give God thanks

And always just love each other

© Janet Martin

Love and the Wonder Thereof

Oh, gentle, purposed blindness, defying the laws of nature, who can completely know you? You, of un-tallied kindnesses demand nothing in return. Unburdened, you are by the cumbersome weight of grudges or by the binding law of duty, but spilling in glorious profusion upon humble vestures of dust; creatures of lust taught by heavenly tenure of things pure and above earthly reason, committing, not random acts of sacrifice, but Being Sacrifice. This is love’s sole language returning ten-thousand-fold its recompense of reward, not for the applause of men but in worship to the Lord.

© Janet Martin

Poeticbloomings is blooming its prompt a day early:) We are invited to try Prose Poetry.

More on this Thing called Love

...and so we love

A trial and error groping

of wondering, wanting

and hoping

...a beauty and brawn receiving

of having, holding

and believing

J~

Sonnet on Vexations of Love

Love probes the deepest recess of intent

It dis-annuls the foibles of the flesh

As hunger and humility enmesh

In poignant intricacies heaven-sent

Where all the laws of rigidness are bent

To adhere to its utter selflessness

Defying longing’s wretched emptiness

It fills the vexing void of discontent

Indwelling and outpouring synchronized

Mortality and Mystery ally

To sear, perplex, in passion undisguised

A joyous grief of wounds to satisfy

Love’s subliminal conquest recognized

By sanguine sorrow silvering the eye

***

Love; it denudes our vulnerability

And strips the barriers of self-defense

With nothing more than whispers, wild, intense

We dare to bear its stunning misery

In spite of what we can or cannot see

Willing to risk its ruthless recompense

Susceptible, our soul-blood we dispense

Forgiving shortfalls of humanity

Dismantling the bulwarks of the heart

We plunge into a volatile unknown

To taste its utterance, for no rampart

Can exile hope; love’s obscure stepping-stone

No common logic augments to outsmart

The need to feed on crumbs from heaven’s throne

***

We wrestle with the pain of pleasure’s kiss

And revel in its keen, incumbent grief

Thriving within its ruthless un-relief

As we return to drink its suffering bliss

For everything is nothing without this

Of our inmost yearning, love is chief

The anchor in emotion trite and brief

Its bittersweet, the air we reminisce

A filament of ecstasy and woe

Laughing, it weeps; tempestuous embrace

A tug-of-war in holding; letting go

The climax of insanity and grace

We let the tenure of its torment flow

In tears of joy and sorrow on our face

© Janet Martin

Hey...it's back-to-school day and mothers are NEVER too old to cry...
...so I'm going to cry if I want to:)

Love's overflow is tears

Rebel With a Hope...

A rebel by inborn nature

A servant by God’s tender grace

Employed by a Master-Savior

Who humbly took our place

As Perfection, Power and Glory

Put on meek flesh and blood

To write redemption’s story

In love’s pure, crimson flood

And now we, rebels by nature

Can be vanquished of our guilt

As mercy weeps on our behalf

In heaven’s Life-blood spilt

He signs our plea for pardon

With holy nail-scarred hand

As once for all, His offering

Fulfills redemption’s plan

Rebels we are by nature

Heirs we are, by grace

Because He sent His beloved Own

To die in our place

© Janet Martin

Hallelujah, what a Savior.

 Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation—Col. 1:21-22

I Come Out Here to Listen...

I come out here to listen

To the sky-line lullaby

To hear its vesper glisten

On the deep end of good-by

The Maestro of this orchestra

The Hand that tunes its choir

Composes twilight’s masterpiece

In chords of holy fire

Above this troubled clod of dirt

With all its torn devotion

He calms our visages of hurt

With heaven’s flaming ocean

I come out here to listen

To love’s soulful solitude

As it melts upon the evening

In a tender-whelming flood

The bumps and scrapes of living

Are predictable and plain

But the overtures of heaven

Who can imitate its strain?

I come out here to listen

To His hallowed vespers swell

As I hear Him softly whisper,

It is well, it is well

© Janet Martin

The Birth of a New Day

Morning melts its silver river

Over the cobblestone

Holy hush preceding the rush

Of life’s unknown

Daybreak spills its molten grail

To shaded bow’r

Grace flings her golden veil

Across the hour

Dawn tiptoes above the horizon

In yellow-gray

But as she reaches for the heavens

She fades away

© Janet Martin

Across the Bridge...

Image Source:  wired.com

Someday across the Bridge I know, it's hard to believe

We will sing to Jesus with the likes of Jim Reeves

and other faithful greats who have crossed on to Heaven

As we praise the Power and the Glory forever. Amen

Janet~

Across the Bridge  Jim Reeves