Tick-tock

Time...

What is it?

This ethereal surface

on which we spill

spectacular failure

and humble triumph

Tick-tock...

Time,
a sequence of heartbeats

and thoughts
and impulse
 

Tick-tock

It whispers its passage

down transient corridors

to the unknown...

Tick-tock...

...until infinite eternity

unshod by half-breaths

and stolen moments
and the ticking
of forever

© Janet Martin

We Are Beautiful

There is a wondrous beauty

Clothing us from deep within

Beneath the shallow proof of Time

Caressed upon our skin

The mirror does not show the man

Only our mortal face

It graciously conceals the span

Of our vast disgrace

Yet, God in tender love and grace

To all who trust His name

Clothes us with His pure righteousness

In garments without shame

The world may judge our clothes and frown

But they cannot behold

The beauty of a royal gown

Clothing a blood-bought soul

© Janet Martin

I read this verse this morning and was glad.

I delight greatly in the LORD;
   my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
   and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
   and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

 Isa. 61:10

Miracles

He stirs the sod and wooden limb

With miracles uncommon

As earth's four-season diadem

Exalts the God of Heaven

Our willing hands, our humble hearts

He fills with power glorious

And by the wisdom He imparts

We will return victorious

Within the acorn; oak trees wait

Within a drop; a fountain

Within a mustard seed of faith

The strength to move a mountain

Celestial ramparts shout His praise

And cause our minds to wonder

At mysteries beyond those gates

In portals over yonder

Janet Martin

Last night on the way home from my son's hockey game it struck me...

the days are getting longer once again...and Time is getting shorter.

Work-out

On some days

Life requires us to

Push harder

Reach higher

Stretch farther

Bend lower

Run faster

…or much slower

And sometimes

It asks us to

Stand perfectly still

And listen

© Janet

Be still and know that I AM God. Ps.46:10

To all of you who wonder Is She Insane?!

I do not expect anyone to read
every drop of ink I bleed
but each drop falls with a little prayer
that it will find the right heart
somehow
somewhere...

Janet~
  Every emotion we feel is not uncommon. J~

A few more reasons...

“It was when I was happiest that I longed most...The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing...to find the place where all the beauty came from.”
― C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold 


 “If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.”
― Martin Luther

 “You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey

 “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
― C.S. Lewis

 “Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.”
― Albert Einstein


and last but not least...

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
― Ernest Hemingway

...and so I write.

Regarding Gifts...

How I admire the artwork of others

Whether formed of paint or string

Tapestries, canvasses, pottery, sweaters

Each answers their own calling

I love to knit and paint and weave

But not with acrylic or thread

Each works with gifts that they receive

So I choose words instead

I sift through adjectives and phrases  

Searching for the perfect shade

Blending consonants and vowels

Until a little thought is made

And by the power of ink-swirled letters

Little poems and pictures form

It’s fun to gather them together

Painting solace or a storm

Some words are like cozy sweaters

Knit in a hug to the heart

Words paint all manner of pictures

Vivid airbrushed works of art

I’m glad God gifted His children

Each in their own special way

Whether with cook-books or palettes
or string or clay
With music or camera,
surf-board or pen
He gives, as befits
His gifts to men...

May we give Him our best each day

© Janet Martin

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. 1 Cor. 12:4

God Forbid...

God forbid that I should worship

Temporal gods of clay and rust

Gathering in my groping visage

Treasure-chests of painted dust

God forbid that I should journey

From the cradle to the grave

Only then to find in horror

They are powerless to save

God forbid that I should hunger

In the wantonness of things

Choosing never to discover

Heaven’s sacred offerings

God forbid, as centuries trickle

Through the clouds above a stone

That I should thus remain forever

Bound by gods without a throne

© Janet Martin

Testing one, two, three...

Testing, testing, one, two, three

If all others forsook

Would you still love Me?

And if they would turn

With rocks in their grip

Would you stand firm

As Stephen did?

Janet~

A few years ago I read this poem and saved it.

and never forgot it's challenge...

Perhaps the hands that held the stone

If the truth were really known

That Stephens thought of hope that day

Heaven is just a stones throw away.

(I wonder if I could be such a man) 

anonymous~