Of Light and Love

Light breathes into the dark

The darkness has no might

For even just a tiny spark

Within its void is light

How great this dark would be

Without Hope from above

How futile this mortality

Without the Light of love

Ah, cheerless magnitude

Opaque upon opaque

But Light bursts from Love’s sacred womb

Crying, awake, awake

Then oh, the Morning comes

Dark demons of the night

Cannot prevail against the One

Who proclaims, ‘I am Light’

© Janet Martin

Thinking on love this week...

Reading Ephesians 5…

it begins with these beautiful words;
 

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love...

Our Champions

Dara Howell wins gold! I love watching the Olympics...and hearing the stories that come with the athletes. As I listened to them asking Dara's mother how she felt through it all I realized every parent feels the same emotions as they watch their kids strive, stumble, succeed! Congratulations and all the best to each athlete in Sochi! 

Whether it’s the next triple flip, slalom,

Word, step or sum

We are there for them

Cheering them on

Weeping their disappointments,

Laughing with joy

At each new accomplishment

For every girl and boy

Is reaching for a pinnacle,

A goal, a prize

And they are all champions

In their parent's eyes

© Janet Martin

Ink-rush

   

Image Source

Today’s YDP is another reason I so love the old poets.

I love the rush of old ink and such

Timeless, the passion of thought as we touch

Triumph and agony, hope and despair

Ageless, its melody spun from thin air

Longing and loving and loss intertwine

I love the warmth of fermented word-wine

Pour me a piece of old poetry then

Imbibe my heart with a drink from its pen

Time is but tick-tock of hour to year

Change cannot change that which shapes smile and tear

Rush of old ink; How you satisfy me

Preserved forever in old poetry

© Janet Martin

Time's Silent Storm

Good-bye Shirley...this(Curly Top) was the first movie my kids and I saw starring Shirley Temple and we all fell in love with her on the spot!

Over the skyline

Without pause or form

A new breaker surges

In Time’s silent storm

Limping or dancing

Falling, flying free

We are the patrons

Of its melody

Dawning to dawning

Its virgin appeal

Spills from an ocean

Silent and surreal

Brief blue-gray billow

Breath-by-half-breath borne

Morning to evening

To midnight to morn

Until its last ripple

Recedes from earth’s shore

And Time’s tireless tiralee

Is no more

© Janet Martin

Garden Dreams...

 Those sweet dreams are beginning to nudge...but there's a lot of thawing that needs to happen first!

The garden dreams like me, I know

Tucked deeply ‘neath its quilt of snow

Waiting to feel the touch of skin

Against its brawny beckoning

Our daydreams resonate with hope

As late-day lingers on south-slope

Last year’s frustration long forgot

Where perfection designs its plot

How lush and plush this new crop grows

Unlike its predecessor’s woes

It pines for prance of flip-flop feet

And wind-song slow in summer’s heat

Across the field, frozen dusk gleams

A foreigner to daisy-dreams

And yet I think that winter knows

Beneath its quilt a garden grows

© Janet Martin

I drove past this fields yesterday ...it's white but not with daisies.

The Sweeping Sweep of Years

The sweeping sweep of years will yield

The seeds we’re planting in its field

Though hidden deep, still it will grow

This is the way of seeds, you know

And though the hour disappears

Lost in the sweeping sweep of years

When first we dropped it underfoot

Eventually it will bear fruit

Someday will spill the telling yield

Of seeds we’re planting in its field

The sweeping sweep of years will prove

At harvest-time the God we love

Planter and reaper both are we

A weed can never be a tree

Consider well these minute spheres

Lost to the sweeping sweep of years

© Janet Martin

 Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Gal.6:7

Monday Morn Musing...

Brash, brutal barbs test and attempt to dismantle our hope

But when we fold its care in prayer He kindly helps us cope

Hurtful, hungering hollows are so hard to satisfy

Without the love of God; He loves from springs that never dry

The cruelty of selfish expectation blights our boast

How sad to forfeit happiness because we love Self most

Wrath swipes a smile and turns its gladsome would-be joy to tears

Tis not in grand acclaim but simple act that fills our years

Life tosses toil and trouble like a test across our way

We would be wise to seek the counsel of our God today

…for it is not what we may think that orders our hand

But what God says; ‘love Me and others’ is His first command

© Janet Martin

another poem to muse upon...

Winter Morning Medley

The skyline spreads a feast for hungry eyes

Hope’s waking hush brushes soft sleep away

Harsh scream of blue-jay rakes the melting skies

Duty in urgent whispers threads the day

Eager to spill its blend of gray and gold

From lilting moments into memory’s mold

Ethereal circle of morning to night

Begins its daily circuit east to west

Mirthless medley of winter-wizened white

Dons pastel paths of coffee-flavored zest

The hub of Hope and Dream implores and dares

Us to throw off the weight of yester-cares

Temporal touch-down, glory-gilded tears

Laugh-lines of life etched boldly on our brow

Sweet home-spun symphony strums atmospheres

Unfurling golden highways on the snow

We pray the Lord our stumbling feet to keep

Until we close our eyes in that last sleep

© Janet Martin 

Wishing you all kinds of Wonder-full this week! 

Lord, bless this Monday morning

and as we rush to 'do'

Love's duty-splendor-ed service 

Teach us to trust in You.