Friday, February 20, 2015

Rush-hour




 The sun is no longer cradled in the crook of the tree's arm when it rises...a sign of spring-things:)...and oh, it climbs the sky so quickly. I snapped these in approx. 90 seconds. ..as a sort of rush ran through me sensing Mystery soon to be history beneath this hurried molten orb...

Pink pales
Time’s grail tips hallelujahs from
A sacred jar
And none can see
The sea
Where all
Unopened moments are
But soft upon
Time’s gaping yawn
Dawn’s darkness dissipates
And morning like a
Glory-song
Rushes through
Ruby gates
And we who stand beholding
Light igniting every curve
Can only think to whisper
What a mighty God we serve

© Janet Martin

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Wearing Black with You...



It (black) became the color worn by English romantic poets...wikipedia

Yep...it's wikem day 

Beyond the windowpane it drapes, in velvet arabesque
where sight is touch, and oh my love, the nearness of your eyes
Is all the light I need; the cloth of midnight's dark-spun dress
blankets the quiet imminence of need's imploring sighs

...and I am glad we share the black of sight; a sea of ink
rises and falls, its cadence like a madrigal un-penned
Darling, who knew the pulse of it can rush where dreamer's drink
the black of night, a strange high-tea where touch and taste amend

...and all the colors of the world are tucked into the folds
of it; there are no dark or lighter shades of black
With you I do not need to see beyond the warmth that holds
me close and strums a starless sea of whispers down my back

Janet Martin



Mon Amour





Greedy, garbled, gluttonous game
Want wastes words, barters with blame
If love loses its first flame
Lusting for self-satisfaction
Sorrow slips from fingertips
Forgiveness forges friendships
Laughter lavishes love’s lips
With ‘Mon amour’ attraction

© Janet Martin


...invites us to try this prompt; 
Sounds of love CACOPHONY and EUPHONY.

Creation's Cathedral


I spent yesterday morning outside because I heard the already cold temps were going to nose-dive for the next few days, again! They were right!




There are no pictures on these walls
Yet everywhere we look
The awesome artwork of Someone
Fills every rill and nook

The floors are laid with carpet rare
White plush or lush leaf-green
And we are drawn to linger where
The air is sweet and keen

No clock to tick and tock or mock
No rigid rules intone
Here Worship needs no noise of talk  
In nature’s pantheon

…and we are welcome, one and all
Into this holy place
To wander slow, its tree-lined hall
Or gaze on heaven’s face

For nothing else can quite compare
In workmanship or fame
To creation’s Cathedral where
Earth shouts her Master’s Name

© Janet Martin


 The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. Ps. 24:1



Wednesday, February 18, 2015

A Most Wonderful Gift



 Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. Ps. 143:8

You steal our breath
The way you sweep
The dark to naught
From vale and steep

You trace with hands
We cannot see
Hope’s unmarred
Opportunity

And soft upon
Time’s season-stage
You offer dawn
From age to age

…and all that we
Are called to do
Is humbly give
It back to You

© Janet Martin

Toward the Full of It





We persist
And rearrange
And change our minds
Because
We didn’t know
Those years ago
How long and strong
Love was

So, for love’s sake
Of give and take
We break beneath
Its kiss
As, still we learn
The strange return
Of how patient
Love is

Heave-ho, ahoy,
To find love’s joy
We dare not
Dare to quit
But ever press
With tenderness
Toward the full
Of it

© Janet Martin