Where Heroes are Born...

 

 Image source and stories

It is not on a sweet,

Still,

Soft and

Peaceful

Coral morn

That this world’s heroes

Are born…

No, it is

In the hard-core

Life-and-death decisions

Of putting others before

Self

Where flesh is sacrificed, scarred

And torn

Here; this is where

Heroes are born

© Janet Martin

The pictures out of Oklahoma in the past few days are heart-wrenching!



Our prayers continue.

Beneath the Arch of Azure Sky...

Beneath the arch of azure sky

Against earth’s dappled green we lie

A little cloud, a little sun

And so another day is done

Beneath the arch of azure sky

The bud unfolds, then blooms and dies

A little rain, a little sun

And so another spring is done

Beneath the arch of azure sky

We join the moments drifting by

A little pain, a little fun

And so another life is done

Beneath the arch of azure sky

A mother hears her baby cry

A little rain, a little sun

For this new life that has begun

© Janet Martin

We never know what will be told

as this day's story-line unfolds

But this we know, in Whom we trust

To Him we yield our thoughts of dust...

My hearts and prayers are with the suffering in Oklahoma tonight! 

Lady Spring

There is no lady quite like you

You flaunt earth’s purest green and blue

You wear an apple-blossom crown

And flare your dandelion gown

There is no lady quite as fair

As she with lilacs in her hair

And stately tulips round her feet

Where soil and toil and wonder meet

There is no lady quite as dear

As she with petals in her tear

Earth laughs to see her dance and sing

Across the land; fair Lady Spring

© Janet Martin

Oh Love, from Whence Comest Thou?

Oh Love that formed us in Thy depth of holy thought and will

Oh Love that shed Thy blood upon Golgotha’s lonely hill

Oh Love that breathes Thy spirit into all who will believe

Oh Love, our sacred merit as Thy fullness we receive

Oh Love that gives us purpose for each task both great and small

Oh Love, faithful through ages while earth’s kingdoms rise and fall

Oh Love, of greater portion than our meager minds can grasp

Oh Love, faithful assurance as its Mystery we clasp

Oh Love, Alpha, Omega, the Beginning and the End

For who is more supreme than Thee, the sinner’s gentle Friend?

Oh Love, who taught Thee how to love; from whence was Thy lot cast?

Love transcends, beneath, above; ‘I AM the First and Last’

© Janet Martin

The university professor attempted to describe agape Love without God...and failed.

Of Flesh and Soul

The flesh is but the temple harboring the ageless soul

The pride of life a ripple where time’s quickened hours roll

And soon we set aside its boast to sleep beneath the sod

The flesh adheres, from dust to dust; the soul returns to God

The adjournment of mortal woe meets our mortal gaze

But the immortal none can know in full until that place

When we stand before God alone to receive our reward

And tardy pleas cannot atone for truth that we ignored

‘Whosoever calls upon God’s name will be set free’

Grace opens wide its gate and mercy appeals patiently

The day of grace with our last breath and Time will dissipate

The flesh returns to dust; the soul meets God at Heaven’s gate

The gods of self and this old world are never satisfied

The God of Heaven spilled His blood; our ransom crucified

‘It is finished’ Love supreme cries out for you and me

‘Whosoever calls upon His name will be set free’

© Janet Martin

Of Threads, Thoughts and Things Past

The sky threads the river with silver-blue sheen

The sea threads its glimmer with gold

As spring threads its glory in garments of green

Over earth’s ebony hold

You thread my thought with the hint of a smile

You thread my heart with your sigh

And every so often in my midday mile

You thread a tear in my eye

The bloom threads the stem with petal-fragrance

As leaf-song and flower unfold

Spring threads the air with hope’s effervescence

Where hills become heaven’s threshold

You thread my memory with silver-soft touch

You thread the wish in my sigh

And every so often I miss you so much

You thread that tear in my eye

© Janet Martin

The Words of Men

Sometimes the words of men are not enough

To satisfy the hunger in my soul

So I turn to the pages of His love

And there He makes my wanting spirit whole

The words of men for all their good intent

Never redeems our guilt or justifies

But oh, His grace and mercy Heaven-sent

From God to man in Jesus satisfies

The words of men may veil the heart’s deceit

They soothe but only for a little while

The Word of God will guide our errant feet

And never lead into temptation’s guile

The words of men struggle, reason and grope

God’s word will temper their wanton increase

The Word of God replenishes our hope

And fills the hungry spirit with His peace

© Janet Martin

Oh, Gentle Day...

Oh gentle day, nudging away the veil that drapes nature’s repose

Soft fingertips, murmuring lips whisper to naught night’s sable throes

The earth expands beneath her hands where mercy’s promise intercedes

As grace employs immortal joys and Hope nurtures our mortal needs

The woodland sings where bird-song rings in acclamation to her cues

The haunted dell and darkened fell emerge clothed in gleaming chartreuse

In thinning dark our dreams embark beneath the arabesque incline

Of coral-gold; see it unfold a virgin bloom on mercy’s vine

Within her breath both life and death tremble upon Time’s argent wing

Where angels tread and mortal thread glimmers; a sheer, ephemeral thing

Change wields its mien; from subtle skein her gossamer caress unfurls

How brief the span from boy to man; soon womanhood slips over girls

Where is the limb that lifts the scrim of midnight’s tender, turbid trance?

We touch the spoil of duty’s toil and praise the God of second chance

Rendered respite of middle-night dissolves within the ruby splay

Of gentle dawn nudging far yon the remnant shades of yesterday

© Janet Martin