Saturday, February 4, 2012

Love ABC'c

Love answers
Love bends
Love cares
Love defends
Love encourages
Love forgives
Love gives and gives
Love honors
Love inspires
Love is joy
Love is kind
Love listens and lets go
Love is a miraculous mystery
Love says no
Love offers
Love praises
Love quiets
Love remains
Love suffers
Love teaches
Love understands
Love is victorious
Love waits
Love X-amines
Love yields
Love is pure, unselfish zeal

© Janet Martin

While love ought to be the underlying element in everything we do
I try to devote a little more attention to it in the 'month of love':)

Omnipotent


In every breath my Lord is there
although we cannot see His face
His glory rends robes of despair
and startles evil with His grace

Before the universe, He was
Before this little gasp called Time
He is; and love’s each sinner thus
in passions holy, pure, sublime

A thousand-thousand times each star
His acts of mercy intercede
He whispers from within our hearts
to fill love's everlasting need

Though fear and doubt afflict, assail,
their darkness cannot over-power
the Love and Light that rend its veil
before Eden’s dejected hour

In every breath my Lord is there
though fools and scoffers mock in scorn
His glory fills the atmosphere
and renders peace amidst life's storm

© Janet  Martin


Options...


He does not ask of us, some grand
Unreachable request
He simply graces hearts and hands
Then longs to see our best

Before our feet touched down today
We passed no written test
But soon enough our lives will say
If we give it our best

He who gives, does not require
But if we would be blessed
It is prudent to aspire
To give to Him our best

This life is a buffet of choice
Within each choice, a test
But there is a soft inner voice
To help us do our best

He does not ask of us some grand
Unthinkable request
He simply graces hearts and hands
Then longs to see our best

© Janet Martin


Hints

It tunes the timbre of the breeze
A lilting undertone
It taunts the jeweled arm of trees
And bulb of anemone
It warms the frozen ray of sun
And tickles dashing streams
It teases darkness from the dawn
And from despair, fresh dreams

It pleads within cold, willing gales
Softening with hope
The fury rushing over vales
In frigid calliope
And in the frozen atmosphere
An essence, though unseen
Cradles and fills the heart with cheer
And thoughts of budding green

It rustles in the underbrush
Across the stricken earth
It hints within the argent hush
A season of rebirth
What is this sense of grand renewal
Beyond us, hovering?
Why, it is winter’s finest jewel
Those first small hints of spring

© Janet Martin

Yes, it is there! I felt it while hanging out laundry this morning...



Heaven's Hope


Cobalt, pewter
Low-flung sky
Resists the hour of day
Golden whisper
Threads dark lines
And melts its grasp away

Worry, sorrow
Heavy heart
Resists the power of trust
Heaven’s whisper
Reassures
And hope fills empty cups

© Janet~

It seemed as if the heavy cloud resists the dawn today...
...slowly the cobalt veil recedes and the gold line expands!
One cannot stop the Light, It will have the final say.
After all, these are powers far beyond our hands

Friday, February 3, 2012

Angels Among Us...or The Unsung Heroes


They should have shelves,
no, monumental showcases 
burgeoning with trophies and medals
in honor of their services and heroism.
Instead, they are quite obscure,
sorting through heads of cauliflower
or bunches of bananas at the super-market.
They hunch beneath umbrellas,
disappearing through ordinary doorways
to invisible mission-fields.
Who are they?
They are the care-givers
of beautiful special-needs souls
placed into life with afflictions devoid of explanation,
simply need;
the basic, never-ending needs requiring faithful hands
to bathe, feed, teach,
lift, hug, pamper
and clean countless messes.
They are the voices talking,
soothing, praising, singing,
weeping and praying.

They remain,
driven by a law beyond human reasoning
and strengthened by a force beyond human understanding;
Love.
No glory or applause waits for them
at the end of their day,
simply weariness and the promise
that as long as life continues so will need.
And thus they quietly continue,
never seeking adulation
but diligently seeking
hope, patience, strength;
planting joy in gardens
witnessed by God alone.

Beneath their touch broken flowers bloom.
Faithfulness will be their legacy.
Heartache hones their beauty,
astonishing in its rare form
of work-worn hands and tear-tender eyes.

There will never be a hall of fame
for those who teach an autistic child to say mama.
There are no grand-stands
filled with cheering fans
as strong arms steady weak, trembling bodies
endeavoring to take a first step.
There are no banners waving in celebration
because Peter finished a whole serving of applesauce
or Mary learned to read her printed name.
But there are crowns of glory held in waiting,
unfathomable
in the richness of their reward.

Someday God will reach down,
lift these angels from earth
and restore them to Heaven.
‘Well done’, He will declare,
‘you have completed your mission.
You have taught my precious servant-child
to trust fully in me.
Because of you they will receive many rewards
and will hear these blessed words,
‘well done my good and faithful servant.
Enter into the rest prepared for you’

Yes, there truly are angels among us,
teaching God’s children how to love
and leading them ever closer to Him.

Dedicated to all the angels with Down’s syndrome, Autism, Alzheimer’s, Cerebral Palsy and many other afflictions to countless to number, and of course, to their beautiful, angels-in-waiting caregivers.

Janet Martin



Winter Thaw

The Snowmen...a week later;(
No gold complexion
warms the kitchen table
Only gray
A nondescript pall
hovering morbidly
against the day
without soft wind-song
filtering
through winter's tree
but just a sodden
drip-drip-drip
as earth swallows a sea
of melted snowflakes
in its mouth
and gripping winds recoil
Who is this maiden
from the south
perplexing winter's toil?

Janet~

Thursday, February 2, 2012

The Heartless Thief; Alzheimers

Teardrops well
In her pale, blue eyes
She was going to tell
Us stories
Of when she was a girl
And a youthful sparkle returns
From a tender world
As she recalls that day
For a brief, splendid moment
Before it slips away
And she grasps vainly
For memories; Fading,
behind her eyes…
…little bits of colored ribbon
Floating to the skies

Janet~