Dancing in the Rain

Yiruma always makes me feel like writing:)...love songs

Let me love you

Darling, let’s stop keeping score

Starting over

Is not what I am asking for

But just another

Day-opportunity

To love you, darling

Like I thought that love would be

Let me love you

What if this day were our last?

Would its memory

Be the one that we hold fast?

It’s so easy

To forget what we live for

And all I’m asking

Is for one loving-you-day more

Let me love you

Only death makes it too late

To keep on trying

Let me love you, then today

This flesh-blood offering

Is all that I can give

But oh, my darling

Let me love you thus

Each day I live

…and let me love you

Like a slow-dance in the rain

I want nothing

But a day-chance to try again

Starting over

Is not what I’m asking for

But just to love you,

Oh my darling

Just to love you one day more

© Janet Martin

In the Winter-fire Glow

I would do it all again

This trial-and-error slipping of the feet

Is not in vain

Even the errors we repeat

Do not spell failure

If it simply means we tried again…

In spring wildly we cling

To summer’s luring dream

In summer, softly we begin

To hear autumn’s requiem

In autumn, oh tis then we know

How swift life’s years slip past

And in the winter-fire glow

We hold its memory fast

© Janet Martin

So We Pray...

So we pray

Not as some frantic ‘last-resort’ request

But, with hope

We trust and obey

Leaving our care with He who knows best

© Janet Martin

Pray without ceasing. 1 Thess. 5:17

Beautiful Ordinaries

Embrace them,

All those beautiful ordinaries

Shaping our toil and strife

Embrace them

For beautiful ordinaries

Shape a life

Embrace them

The endless clean-up

and clutter

The chatter, the scatter

Of shoes, back-packs,

The scolding of Mother

Embrace them

The beautiful ordinaries

To which we become blind

Because in the still of retrospect

The ordinaries bind

The scattered fragments

Of duty’s strife

To color the pages

Of a beautiful life

© Janet Martin

It's Saturday,

My beautiful ordinaries are calling:) .

There She Remains...

…and there she remains

In the crook of belonging

Love is life’s beauty

There is nothing more

So there she remains

To touch with thoughts reaches

And cover with prayer

Those who part from her door…

There she remains

Sweet, tender assurance

Even as hours

And miles spin their years

There, on the Shoulder of Love

She embraces

The beautiful Knowing

That Love conquers fears

© Janet Martin

Love bears all things...

My kids don't know (actually, maybe I should tell them) that my prayers follow them each time they leave and cover them while they are gone...

Before We Ask of Him

Sometimes we do not know the words

To shape our prayer and beckoning

But our God knows; He has heard

Even before we ask of Him

Then, as we cry and beg and plead

In fear and angst and wondering

He sustains our every need

Even before we ask of Him

Our lives are not our own

A gift bestowed; no reckless whim

He reaches to us from His throne

Even before we ask of Him

With God there are no accidents

No unknown hovers vague or dim

His tender mercies intercede

Even before we ask of Him

© Janet Martin

How swiftly an accident can shift our ordinaries

As life becomes a sudden dark vale

But injury, sickness and death cannot pluck us

From Hands of love that will never fail.

We stood, watching the orange chopper (air ambulance) circle over our property as it turned to face Toronto or Hamilton, knowing it lifted off from my cousin's farm and not knowing why …we watched as the chop-chop-chop grew faint and the orange dot disappeared, and all we could do

Was pray…

My cousin, a farmer, a dad, a hubby, suffered a farm accident yesterday, losing a limb.

He is in serious condition. I do not know many details at this point other than he lost a foot or leg. Please, if you read this could you pray for him and his family?

Update: He lost his foot at the ankle. He is doing as well as can be expected at this time. they will need our prayers for a while.

 

Echoed Refrains

The year is closing in

As silently its door

Will seal within Time’s resting-place

Retrospect’s nevermore

Fearless, the moments pass

As future moments urge

Like whispers in life’s hour glass

Or autumn’s stricken dirge

Thought wings in shadow flight

Across the wending year

How quick the bud turns white

How soon winter is near

Nature’s sage interment

In solemn stillness weeps

The lowered shadows bent

Where resurrection sleeps

The Year is closing in

How swift the daylights wanes

And twixt its rising, setting sun

We write love’s rare refrains

© Janet Martin

Joy-shapes

Who can explain the shape of its cup?

These moments of joy that we hold up

To our Maker; as we dance and laugh

On summer’s tangled after-math

Even the chill wind cannot dull

The song in our heart and mouth; thankful

Thankful for the golden walnut tear

Marking the close of another year

Thankful for duty, never-ending

For the colors of farewell softly blending

With nature’s response of mute, barren trees

Stoking the moan of the wandering breeze

Thankful, yes, even for the aching sigh

Spawned by love and the tear in our eye

Who can define its measure of worth?

Humble design;  startling treasures of earth

Shaped in a smile, or the driving rain

As we dream from the dry side of the window-pane

Shaped by the leaf dangling from a limb, brave

Before spiraling, drifting to its umber-musk grave

Or else, by the madrigal of bronzed corn

As it rustles; once emerald, now brittle, forlorn

Shaped by the reaper bent on filling his sheaf

With the scattered remnant of sun-flower grief

What is the shape of summer-end joy?

Of bittersweet, beautiful autumn alloy

Of moment-drops melting away soundlessly  

In prelude to the music of memory

© Janet Martin