A 'Sort-of Parody' to...On Looking Up By Chance at the Constellations

this morning the sky went from this...

to this...

...to this, within 45 minutes.

You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud…RobertFrost

…ah, perhaps,

but this sky-dome bears witness to all human plight

Sparking the hunger in love-songs we write

In the night while the rush of its rain-song is lent

To fuel hugs and kisses and passion’s storm spent

‘Neath the low bars of brooding ere dawn breathes awry

The cocoon of darkness where hope’s butterfly

Wafts to waking wonder; we comb past’s lament

To salvage the best of Time’s sheer filament

For we, peon-masters of mute moment-mirth

Scatter fumbling footprints beneath heaven’s girth

And the floating of clouds; mother’s chasing the hem

Of childhood and girlhood on its diadem

And we cannot wait with eyes squeezed tightly shut

In the hoping of holding what cannot be caught

Save a frame shaped in thought; while the eons of sky

Wait long, long above us; buds break, bloom then die

As four-season circuits unravel their plight

And shrivel to nothing youth’s buxom delight

Yet all the while over vast century-shift

The frigates of Eden’s maiden voyage drift

Blue-gray, coral-gold, white fleets silver-crowned

Sailing on ether oceans uncharted, unbound

Above plebeian passage of cradle to grave

Where all things human must muster and brave

The moods of the sky; planet-stippled wraith

We suffer its fortune of flood, famine faith

Midnight rain, morning sun, noon-aria, nocturne

Beneath aerial awning we live, love and learn

Though we would wait long in the sky for much more

Than vapor flotilla on seas with no shore

Here we are stunned every hour by its song

Where nothing remains what it is very long…

© Janet Martin

Moment-moil

This little soil on which we toil

And covet mercy’s moment-moil

Is but the launching pad whereby

We learn life’s leap of faith

And fly

This little plot we fill with thought

Of home-sweet-home, earth’s heaven-dot

Is but a sparkle on sod-sea

Whereby we reach

Eternity

This little want is but the taunt

Of things to come somewhere beyond

This little soil on which we toil

And covet mercy’s

Moment-moil

© Janet Martin

In Search of a Poem...

Will you lure from nothingness; out of stiff air

Sparkle of gladness in word-whispered fare?

Will you take the quill of this Duty-bent will

Filling its font with your word-whispered thrill?

Will you vex and tease and then softly appease

The thirst of a poet with word-whispered ease?

Hope is a frigate, test-riddled with time

Will you still thought's tempest with word-whispered rhyme?

Ah, secrets and sorrows perplexing the heart

Will you lend your beauty with word-whispered art?

I am a beggar starved for your caress

Will you fill my wanting with word-whispered ‘yes’?

© Janet Martin

On This Transport...

On this transport from sod to sky

Well-springs of faith would oft run dry

But for His Well; oh praise the Lord

He fills parched shells with Living Word

We are a beaten, broken race

Doomed to destruction, but for grace

Oh, Lord, God, Keeper of the soul

You make the broken sinner whole

Across Time’s sorrow-stricken dirt

Our hearts and hands are scarred with hurt

Life’s grief would be hell’s first foretaste

But for the One who gives us grace

Temptation-prone and weak are we

But for the One who sets us free

On this transport from sod to sky

Love binds our brokenness; we fly

© Janet Martin

I woke with the first line coming to me as I looked at the sky…thinking, here we are, another day on this transport from sod to sky.

They are broken who mock the broken, hound the broken, chase the broken and feast on the broken…

oh, how it saddens me to see brokenness prey on brokenness! we ought only to pray for the broken because we are all broken somewhere!

I thank Thee that Thou hast answered me and hast become my salvation. Ps116:21

Not to us, oh Lord, not to us, but to Thy name give glory,

for the sake of thy steadfast love and thy faithfulness! Ps. 115:1

Thursday Thoughts to Make us Think

If I am the only ‘Jesus’

That some will ever see

I wonder what they think of Him

As they meet Him through me

***

We are becoming who we will be...so be carefully.

***

Lord, hone the hope of my heart with Your fire

Lest my boast is the naught of wicked men’s desire

***

When dreams become burdens

Instead of blessing

Put them down

And look up

***

The Lord is high above all nations

His glory above the heavens…

We ought to live righteously, soberly

For we stand in a Holy Presence

***

What our eyes see can soon distract

Thought-fantasy confuses fact

But Truth is Truth and will remain

When we can see clearly again

***

I hold you closer

For such is a heart

…shoulder to shoulder,

Though land-miles apart

***

Attitude hinders or helps us cope

It mirrors the Thing in which we hope

***

The dust of another day settles

In past’s irreversible hold

Lord, I pray among the nettles

You find a few nuggets of gold

Janet~

Summer Re-visited

On dewy dawn soft shadow splays

Across the lawn; its fretwork maze

Embellishing an emerald sash

Where soon swift carefree bare feet dash

And softer zephyrs strum a sea

Of half-sprung rye, its melody

A farmer’s hope and dreamer’s bliss

And summer’s sun-kissed happiness

The bud has broken into bloom

Its token tune’s earth’s living-room

And we are all fear-free and wild

As every gladsome summer child

And long we lie beneath the tree

Of willow-song and memory

Where daisy chains teased fingertips

And berry stains sweetened our lips

How distant now that gritty gale

Of sleet and snow and ice travail

Sun-sparkle frays in coffee cups

Hope leaps and plays like eager pups

Where children squeal and laugh and run

Across a year of rising sun

And mothers scold and hug and call

Before the bolder tug of fall

© Janet Martin

I was traipsing along in Monica's snowy footprints when suddenly she swept me into a sun-sparkly summer day...so I stayed a while;)

 I love all seasons but...ch-ch-ch-chattering teeth and c-c-c-cold! vehicles need a break now and then. We didn't get a major January thaw as some predicted and we are in a deep freeze for the remainder of the month according to weather forecasters.

Of Segues and Skylines...

From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the LORD is to be praised. Ps.113:3

Already midnight’s moon has shrunk

…a half-slice in the sky

Where morning spreads a feast

Across the east in gold reply

Into the archives yesterday

Has sealed its memory

We tread its stilted fulcrum now

…segue to what will be

Our mainstream and mundane

May dare to glibly prophesy

What will unfold before today

Returns into the sky

Yet life offers no guarantee

The leaping dawn conceals

A myriad of mystery

Upon Time’s yawing reels

The Brigadoon of which we dream

And fix our fantasy

Exists, not in quixotic realms

Beyond this moment-spree

But in each inhale, exhale

Open, shutting of our eyes

We live, laugh, love upon a trail

To Heaven’s paradise

© Janet Martin

Of Dusk and De-railed Trains...

Dusk drains the day in burnished pink

Before a dark and deeper hue

Folds skylines ‘neath its hem; the brink

Of earth a figment wrapped in blue

And where noon’s merry moments fell

Like sun-sparkles into life’s stream

Twilight’s calm torrent floods the dell

A tranquil tide tunes star-requiem

Jostling and lagging squanderers

Of dark begin to come alive

Where street and porch-light whisperers

Hail passer-byes to step inside

But I prefer the moon-swept hill

Deprived artists and poets sleep

Still, I prefer to stay until

Star-song recedes into pale deep

Soon Time will tug night’s navy drape

From ocean-scape, sea-shore and street

This dusk to dawn a brief escape

Before rush-hour’s bitter-sweet

Maybe, someday I’ll say a prayer

As slumber stills the mind, and then

This poet will be sleeping where

The night will pass without a pen

© Janet Martin

…as the sun was setting I snatched the first line but couldn’t return to it again until way past sleep-time; my original train of thought long-thence derailed, I close my eyes and cut loose…it’s fun;)

Half-past Wondering

The clock climbs over

curves of a year

too quickly

closing the window of fantasy

a little farther

with every added candle

…pushing Future to Past

in shortcuts

it seems.

Dreams

follow the sky

that has fallen over her dusk

nigh fifty years

its dust stoking the light in her eyes

occasionally

or

is it tears?

Once upon a time

air was enough

to lure her to life’s dance-floor,

tossing caution to tomorrow

tipping the glass of freedom

daring to drink

too much

…no regrets

Bests have humbled her.

Tests have taught her.

Stumbles and fumbles

her legacy

as she reaches for the sky

and learns to fly.

Perhaps

she has never been wooed

completely

but she has been loved

and blessed

…her heart broken

Once

© Janet Martin

Of Merchants and Morning-gold

Dawn draws darkness from our windows

Where dusk drew its shutters tight

Through the latticework of limb-frames

Morning fills Time’s bowl with light

And we, merchants of its measure

Cannot pocket heaven-gold

Tithed alike to all, this treasure

Spills freely from mercy’s hold

Will we waste or handle wisely

This allowance of God’s love?

This is not mere nature-notion

Drenching pasture, street and grove

Dawn draws darkness from our windows

See the sieve of mercy sift

Gold-gray nuggets shaped in moments

To we, merchants of Time’s gift

© Janet Martin

As you have likely noticed, this is the window from which I purvey each day-break. This morning flung a rampant river of gold, in spite of FREEZING cold!

  

Today's Flavour!

  

sometimes in the morning I wonder

'What will be your flavor today'

as your wrapper unravels 

and drifts to the ages

will I remember 

you

far, far

away?

We never know what wonder is hidden

in mist-wrapped mystery of morning-sky

Will we recall you

when you are bidden

beyond our taste-buds

to 

Time's 

by-and-by?

Sometimes I wonder

'will it be sweet or bitter?'

This thing unfolding

from future foray

but oh, what a wonderful,

God's-grace experience

as we discover

the

flavor

of 

the day!

Janet~

Because Faith is not Sight...

 image source:unknown

God, you deliver

Signs and wonders

In the twinkling of an eye

Gracious Giver

Supreme Creator

Oh, we lift Your name on high

And pray…

God, we know how

You parted waters

Granting favor

In the midst of the fight

We come to you

There is none greater

And oh, God, Faith is not sight

So we pray...

God, no one precedes or

 Succeeds Your power

All is cupped in the palm of Your hand

Earth and heaven

Skies and water

Rise and fall at Your command

So we pray…

God, the darkness

Of life’s Unknown

Is not larger than Your Light

And the fear

That would enthrone

Is not stronger than Your might

So we pray…

Lead us not

Into temptation

Where demons of doubt assail

God and Father

Of creation

Hope pours from Your holy Grail

As we pray…

© Janet Martin

Our friends covet your prayers once again  for a 48hr. miracle!

...and who is this God we pray to? A young man from our congregation spoke the message in our worship hour yesterday and he spoke on who this God is.(click on this link for the message); Matt Robinson - Reflecting His Lordship

I surrender; Hillsong

Love Y'all

 (here is this morning's 'on my chair in front of a square screen' scene) now I suddenly sense Duty tugging me from my perch, reminding me who's boss;) see you later and have a beautiful whatever-you-are-doing Day!

Hey you,

Yes, you

There

On your chair

In front of a square

Screen

Thank-you,

For the

Beautiful encouragement

You have been

Love y’ all!

Janet~

Intangible Doggerel

I keep you close

Intangible touch

Thought’s deft deliverance

Of echoes and such

 Willow-wind whispers

Of ‘what-once-had-beens’

Warms wanton waiting

Of touch in-betweens

Past is a poem

Of farewells grown cold

Hope is halo

Of tomorrow-gold

Destiny’s doggerel

Keens a ball-room

Where thought can dance

With what is yet to come

So I keep you close

Like intangible air

For nothing can sever

Two hearts held in prayer

Janet~

Time's Other Side

 She danced across the dawn in gold before slipping into a modest gray day-gown...

Here in the crux twixt ‘has been and ‘will be’

Lifetimes are rendered; the surge of a sea

That can never be fettered or clutched in our fists

Sweeps through our fingers in moment-tide mists

Startling proposals of courage and fear

Stream from a phantom, infinite frontier

Over the ramparts of ‘present’ they roar

Passion and pathos vexing the same door

Empyrean portico glistens with gold

Spilling its merit to our fumbling hold

Soon to the crypt of forevermore slips

Half-sigh incitements perplexing our lips

Darling, the aftermath of thought fulfilled

Echoes on beaches where Time's touch has spilled

Death treads a skyline where living implores

Dreamers and schemers alike to its shores

Here in the crux twixt ‘has been’ and ‘will be’

Moment-by-moment life-drops fill a sea

And we, time-drunk sailors on hope’s valiant tide

Battle the breakers to Time’s other side

Lord, grant Your mercy as here in the crux

Twixt ‘has been’ and ‘will be’ we prove our gods

Half-moment shimmers, redundant, yet new

Sheer transportation to Time’s Grand Adieu

© Janet Martin

Walk...

We know not what today may weave

Beneath skies down-cast or bright blue

But no matter where it leads

Lord, may it be a walk with You

The Unknown cradled in Your hands

Soon reveals its hill and hue

Familiar lanes or foreign lands

Lord, may it be a walk with You

Oh Lord, you never force our feet

We choose what we say and do

But, as today unfurls its street

Oh, may it be a walk with You

© Janet Martin

Our hue today? White. Very White with a forecast of...more white:)

 

When the Dark Creeps In...(and some belated Thurs. thoughts)

When the dark creeps in

Like slow discontent

Over hope’s gilded banks

And we would despair

But for God’s care

Filling its gaping blanks

When sighs and woes

Of life’s highs and lows

Cover its gold with gray

Still, as we give thanks

The dark on hope’s banks

Softly melts away

© Janet Martin

Thursday passed too quickly so here is a belated weekly splash of thoughts garnered from lessons I'm in the middle of learning;)

Everything we do is futile
if done for man
Nothing we do is futile
if done for God~

***

Joy increases
as want decreases
if we count our blessings~

***
Everyone loves to be loved
especially the unlovable
...and we are all unlovable at times

***

There are few pleasures greater
or more pure
than the laughter of a little child

***
There are few joys greater
than feeling forgiven
and knowing it; when your teen-ager smiles;) 

***
If we want to dance in the rain
we must learn to kneel
in the sun

***

Trust is that thing
we never fully recognize
until it threatens to leave

***

Yesterday I searched for information
on how to get information
on this Information Age

***

Love is mundane
only when we put
ourselves first

***

Beautiful, Brazilian ecstasy
found in the coffee
you poured
for me!

***

 I must go...
The rod of Duty
taps in humble,
household beauty:)

Have a blessed week-end!

We have been without couches in our main living-room for almost a month! With all the crazy weather shipment was delayed. Today we hope to pick them up; yay!!!
 

 

Why the Extra Fuss?

Someone special is coming to dinner, I say

And when they ask me who

I can’t help but grin a little

At their expressions as I reply, ‘you!’

© Mom/babysitter aka Janet

  

Then...

No tick of clock

No swift season-sweep

No moments pulsing

No waking, no sleep

No flesh and blood

No years fading fast

No dawn or dusk

Nor future nor past

 

No indifference

No unbelief, scorn

Nobody dies

And no one is born

No hypocrites

and no debate

When we pass through

That Final Gate

   

Then,

Heaven or hell

Is all there will be

In the home of the soul;

Eternity

© Janet Martin 

 Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. Rev. 20:11

Age-old Analysis

 I was sorting a bunch of photos into folders and realized, no wonder winter feels long this year! It had an early start.(yet, I find it hard to believe we are over half-way through January already!)

So long ago it seems the trees shrugged autumn’s coat from shoulders bare

Prepared to don snow-shawls and collars trimmed with ice-lace fare

The silver-green of morning sheen shimmers in memory

Or recollection of a season drenched in poetry

The little brook that plays its winter-tune in hollow-nook

Longs for the generosity of sunbeams in her crook

Those crimson maple leaf pontoons are shriveled on her banks

Where dusk is swift to lay long shadows in blue frozen planks

Time loves to toy with poet-pens and little girls and boys

Its playthings scattered like the aftermath of childish joys

And we sift through its remnants searching for something to keep

If only in a poet’s rhyme or whispers ere we sleep

The hedge that holds the nest once held the eggs and baby-bird

But, ever in the pulsing heart a keener cry is heard

To press toward the sky where gleams a Thing in perfect form

Earth’s creature bent on suffering a dreamer’s silent storm

Many a year has passed, my love, and many a year may come

Of green-leaf tree and snow-bound lea on time’s frolicking loam

As we, ever the hunters cannot keep from falling prey

To spring-summer-fall-winter as a lifetime slips away

© Janet Martin

..back to muffin-mixing and other winter pleasures I dearly enjoy:)

Of Things Uncommon

 

Somewhere night’s gentle quiet pales

And from the far horizon hails

Life-lines, familiar yet quite new

…this day unlike our other few

For it has never warmed the lane

Before; and never will again

The pace of moments does not still

But molds the old with new until

Our farewell to earth’s common sod

As we go on to meet our God

Now, common morning sweeps earth’s shore

But never quite like this before

Soon trampled underfoot, its spoil

Through sabers of mute moment-moil

Will snag the hedge and tease our grasp

Whilst shaping memories we clasp

As Time is bent with the delight

Of common morning, noon and night

We do not live in days or years

But in moment-to-moment spheres

Ah, weaver of lifetimes; its ilk

Slips through the air in ether silk

Of dark and light; say, what is this

That warms the midnight with its kiss?

Is nothing new under the sun?

Aye, nay; yet virgin, every dawn

See how it softly seeps, unmarred

As we embrace her dancing card

This thing, so common unto men

Will never pass this way again

© Janet Martin

Sound of Midnight~

Sound of midnight fills the sky

Satin-opaque lullaby

Wind-song, vagrant and footloose

Slipping from moon-spangled noose

To ramble night’s argent hall

Spreading silence like a shawl

Save for sighing evergreen

Waving its four-season sheen

As fresh moments fall away

Jetty on ebony quay

Smooth and still its sonnets spill

Moon-halo, opiate trill

Tempest torn from its rampart

Waging, raging in the heart

And the air, tattooed with dark

Petrifies the snowflake spark

Amplifying somber hush

As a thousand echoes rush

Where sound of midnight fills the deep

And we would miss if fast asleep

J~

Of Good, Old Days I Miss~

Sometimes when winter winds howl blue

In every wee crevice

I pour a cup of ‘missing you’

And sit to reminisce…

And while I tromp its paradise

I see what yet remains

Of laughter in hope’s azure eyes

Music of midnight rains

The melody of holding on

Before the letting go

And knowing night precedes the dawn

Of what we come to know

I cherish home-fire vim and verve

And revel in the kiss

Of blessing I do not deserve

In spite of what I miss

Those daisy fields will bloom once more

And winter will fall prey

To Time’s bantering troubadour

Where sun-soft shadows splay

Stirring in throats of bluebell swell

…pastel forget-me-not

Flinging its foray to the dell

In periwinkle thought

For season-rivers ever roll

In tender give and take

Its echoes cavort and cajole
Across past’s frozen lake

And oh, I am not prone to weep

For what has slipped from me

We touch and taste, but cannot keep

Save, for its memory

But,

Sometimes when the wind howls blue

I pause to reminisce

…and then, my dear I think of you

And good, old days I miss~

© Janet Martin

Emily spent the other day here...at home:) It reminded me of what I miss while still being 100% happy for her!

Praise the Lord

We are enjoying a slice of Alberta Clipper today, so in my reading this morning the words, ice morsels, snow, hail, wind, frost, caught my eye:)
It's timely that I was reminded to PRAISE THE LORD!

Praise the Lord; do not withhold the due of Heaven’s hand

For snow and frost and storming wind fulfill His kind command

Sun, moon and stars His might declare, established in a realm

That cannot be surpassed; save He who reigns supreme in heav’n

Praise the Lord; He heals the blind and sets the prisoner free

The wound of broken-hearts He binds; lift up your melody

To He who numbers all the stars and holds the widow near

He watches o’er the fatherless and counts their sorrow-tear

Praise the Lord; ‘the wicked’, He declares, ‘I will destroy’

The cedar and the fruit tree and the mountains shout for joy

The Lord takes pleasure in the righteous; He prepares the rain

And makes the grass to grow and brings the bud to bloom again

Young men and women, old man, child; come now and praise the Lord

He casts forth ice like morsels then He melts them with His word

The Lord delights in those who hope upon his steadfast love

Happy, happy the people who believe in God above

© Janet Martin

Inspired by Psalms 141-150