Of What Remains

Sometimes when the sky is full of night

and the wind slumbers

high in the poplar trees

where the song of soft summer rain

haggles the leaves by day…

Sometimes, when the moon is swallowed in blackness

as earth and sky coalesce

in inky nothingness

save for the thickening quiet

blanketing the hour…

Sometimes, when longing could swallow an ocean

and emptiness is full of aching

and aching is full of emptiness

save for a the echo

of what could have been...

Sometimes, then I weep for gladness

and the love of double-edges

for surely fulfillment and need

are the enduring offerings

of what remains

I remember

J~

Days of Grass

As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.Ps. 103:15

Man’s days are as grass

Soon its labor and lust

Returns once more

To coffers of dust

Man’s days are as grass

How fickle the bloom

Soon it decays

In earth’s vast tomb

Man’s days are as grass

But not the soul

It never dies

Though eternities roll

Of Water...

It fills the tear that stings the eye

In raw, unkempt emotion

It weeps in mercy from the sky

And forms the turquoise ocean

It cheers dull nooks in laughing brooks

It crushes as it rushes

Its nectar drips on parted lips

On twilight ponds it blushes

It drenches parched, drought-stricken lands

It floods, it flows and gurgles

It mirrors heaven’s vast expanse

And cools the sluggish turtles

It trickles, seeps, it drowns, it pools

Baptizes re-born sinners

It lures young lads from woes like school

To fish and dream till dinner

It gleams like silver, polished glass

On winter’s frozen shallows

It sparkles on dew-dazzled grass

And tames the dusty fallows

From cups it spills, in rip-tides kills

Too much or none; disaster

In midnight rain its soft refrain

Evokes passion's grandmaster

How cold the grave beneath its wave

But as the sun gets hotter

We tip the jug to fill our mug

And thank the Lord for water, water, water...

© Janet Martin

Written for Poetic Bloomings Prompt: Water, water everywhere

A Few Sunday Morning Thoughts

Who can tally

The measure of a moment

The fool sees nothing

The wise man,

Everything

It is hard to love

On paper

I laid my thought against the air

Soon it was swallowed by the hour

I laid my thought into a prayer

It rests now in God’s perfect power

It is hard to wait

Without faith

No path is so bitter

As the one of resentment

No lap is sweeter

Than that of contentment 

It is hard to

swallow longing

He who envies

Forgets to live

He who is happy

Learns to forgive

It is hard

To hold fast to the right

But it is possible

With His Word as our Light

Are you weary and weighed down with care?

Jesus says, ‘Come,’ do you hear Him?

He may not remove the burdens we bear

But He gives us strength to endure them

 Patience is a hard-fought virtue

it's battle can only be won

as we learn to become second

and make others number one

Beware of Things

They help us forget

The Living Truth

And a crossed stained red

He IS

The Way, the Truth, the Life

Why do we seek to compromise?

A fleeting gasp

Is earth's pleasure and strife

Eternity swallows ten-thousand skies

Janet~

Seize Yours

Seize this Moment

Squeeze it

Twist it

Wring it

Taste it

No, savor

Every vapor

Before it fades away

Wasted

Un-tasted

A shovel of naught

But what could have been

Had action met thought

So seize this moment

It is all we can clasp

Not past

Nor future

But one transient gasp

Threaded to the next

Of valor

Or victory

Or passion perplexed

Of present to history

Weaving a lifetime

From cradle to grave

Oh, seize this moment

It is all that we have

© Janet Martin

Moment of Potential

When all my numbered days have fled

Beyond the sweeping sky

And I awake

Not in my bed

But in the by and by

Then it will be too late for me

To love my fellowman

Now is life’s lone opportunity

To do the best I can

We do not live in ages spent

Nor in the mystic morrow

Now is the moment God has lent

To bear life’s joy and sorrow

We dare not pine, with backward glance

To past’s resolute span

Now is love’s rare, redeeming chance

To do the best we can

© Janet Martin

Seize this moment...it is all we have

Easy Street

It would have been easy

To let despair steal

The rest of the dream not taken

It’s hard sometimes

To know what is real

And where we are sadly mistaken

It would have been easy

To let doubt creep in

Subtle as night on the roses

And miss the sound

Of a door opening

As another behind us closes

It would have been easy

To let defeat fall

Not daring to challenge its candor

It would have been easy

To do nothing at all

But look back and forever wonder...

© Janet Martin  

These Past Twenty Years...

Emily asked me the other day what I think about motherhood and can I believe I've been one for almost twenty years...It got me to thinking...

I ponder them slowly, these past twenty years

For they have been like no other

They warned me back then, how fast time disappears

…the day I became a mother

I ponder them tenderly, these past twenty years

Of fulfillment as deep as my yearning

Of mustard-seed faith to combat mammoth fears

Of teaching midst all of my learning

I ponder them deeply, these past twenty years

The paradox of love’s mystic measure

The beautiful agony of laughter and tears

The wonder of life’s painful pleasure

I ponder them thankfully, these past twenty years

So glad that God never forgot me

Gently admonished, through my own scolding and cheers

At how much my children have taught me

© Janet Martin