Morning Thoughts

 Yesterday's Sunday School lesson was on the tears of Jesus as He beheld Jerusalem and wept, If Thou hadst known...That account touches me immensely every time as I realize we still don't really get it; of how much He loves us 'as a Father pitieth his children'... I choked up as I read this story to the class and this highly amused them all as they tossed Kleenexes to Teacher;)
Don't you think He still weeps sometimes longing to gather us to him like a mother hen gathers her brood...?

Help us trust You, Lord and then

Not to seek applause of men

But to strive fervently to prove

That you are the God we love

Yes, you are the God we love

Distraction of sundry sort

Plagues perception to distort

Comforts croon and wanting wails

Love abides and never fails

Love abides and never fails

Pleasure is a fickle friend

Piety a hopeless fiend

But God, your love transcends our greed

Mercy meets us in our need

Mercy meets us in our need

Diligence, humility

Honor, let these ever be

The obedience we seek

For God, you help us when we’re weak

Yes, God helps us when we’re weak

Then, as morning stirs our sleep

Chasing shadows from the deep

Help us Lord, to bear in mind

Soon we leave this world behind

Ah, soon we leave this world behind

© Janet Martin

I wrote this earlier this morning but power outages and internet disruptions will make it a 'noon thoughts' poem

Frames of Devotion

 In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. John 1:4-5

Soft, soft rose blush gilds paling hush

Of morning gently breaking

Grace breathes its prayer upon the air

Where a new day is waking

Though we have marred and often scarred

That place where echo lingers

Time’s fringe-less fold does not withhold

Love’s offering from our fingers

But tenderly from ether sea

In fathoms freely spilling

Mercy extends and kindly lends

Fresh frames for our filling

As from earth’s brink whisper of pink

Expands in grand slow-motion

I pray that we return to Thee

Oh Lord, frames of devotion

© Janet Martin

That Sets a Poem Apart

Words can say anything

That spills from the heart

But oh, it’s what it makes us feel

That sets a poem apart

…from regular ramble

Of shaped Abc’s

A poem is an ocean

Caught on a breeze

Rush of hurricane

Without a sound

Thunder of teardrop

Crushing the ground

It’s childhood revisited

It’s sweet coming home

It’s loss, love and longing

Wrapped up in a poem

It’s a hug when we’re lonely

Its beauty on air

It’s ‘hello, my Darling’

And ‘don’t touch me there’

Want turns to wonder

And wonder halts time

As heartache and hunger

Are quaffed in its rhyme

For words can paint pictures

In mind-numbing art

But oh, it’s what it makes us feel

That sets a poem apart

© Janet Martin

It's March

It’s March and soon its melting song will fill our eager ears

As all across the country-side its white coat disappears

And crocuses begin to press toward the warming sun

It’s March; the month where we declare that springtime has begun

It’s March; and how our spirits leap to laugh those glorious words

And how the pulse of gardener quickens as dirt-dreams are stirred

To tangible fruition as we look at seeds and thrill

Before we revel in the marvel of new blooms about to spill

It’s March and soon the junco on the snow will fly away

As drip-drop notes and sunshine gloats on winter’s last foray

At last we’ll open windows, shake the dust from curtained rooms

While singing songs of rain and sun to wake earth’s slumb’ring tombs

It’s March; the tree limb stripped in fall is decked in ruby gem

And winter’s mourning madrigal is moping on Time’s hem

Before the jostling zephyr and its chortling melody

Abolishes another winter to Vast History

© Janet Martin

I’m ignoring the forecast for this March of ‘it’s going to be a lot like February’…

 Okay, so this is March 1st. Can't wait to see what transpires between the first and last day...

 ...broken nature has a lot of healing to do!

It's Saturday

It wakes us

In snuggling whispers

To softly say,

‘Don’t rush up yet,

…no need to hurry,

It Saturday’

While nudging to-do’s

Begin nagging

She smiles

And reminds us

It’s Saturday

Relax for a while

And we ease up

On the bustle of

Routine ranting pace

Because it’s Saturday

Laughing nugget of

Week-end grace

Of second-cup coffees

And pausing

To feel

The pleasure of moments

Dripping from

Time’s reel

Before the demands

Of another week

Yanks us from sleep

For now

It’s Saturday

‘Fuzzy slippers,

Girl curled next to me’,

Let’s make some muffins’ morning

And memories to keep

© Janet Martin


Enjoying an argument with her brother while he makes pancakes...I think they are on argument #3 since this pic;) good times!

Someday...Summer

 Watching this mega snow-blower thinking; Dear Summer...

Someday you’ll tumble through wide-open windows

Filling our laughter with sparkle and sun

Spilling your pink petal-mirth on the meadows

Where now a sonnet of snowflake is spun

Someday the highway will wind like a ribbon

…ebony shimmer of dreams to the sky

Come, gentle wind, won’t you hearken our bidding?

Lavish the air with a warm lullaby

Someday the front porch will wear kool-aid kisses

Now it is frozen in winter respite

While we dream of things the summer-heart misses

Lost in an ocean of white over white

Someday we’ll fling back these cold, frozen sashes

Thrill to the trill of your long-waited charms

While reveling in golden warmth as it splashes

Over the windowsill into our arms

© Janet Martin

Blue-collar Heroes

 

Image source

Blue-collar brave-hearts

They’ve got no medals

No badges on their

Coat-sleeves or lapels

Working class warrior

Seeking no glory

Fighting life’s battle

And doing it well

Obscure battalion

Work-force deployment

Wielding their armor

Of steering-wheel, cart

Low-dollar hero

Invisible valor

Witnessed by One

As they give from the heart

Courageous convoy

Gallant and glorious

Punching the clock

While nobody applauds

Silently sacrificing

Over and over

Second-mile soldiers because

This is love

Blue-collar brave-hearts

They’ve got no medals

No black-tie gala

Or work-hand trophy

Working class heroes

 The pulse of a nation

Fighting the battles

Of life faithfully

© Janet Martin

This is a modified re-post going out esp. for those on our winter highways and streets; patrols, truck-drivers, bus-drivers, crossing-guards, post and parcel delivery,snow-removal crews,hydro-workers and everyone trying to get to work on time!

Hang in there and Thank-you to our invisible heroes!

This Roller-coaster Rubric

Record highs and record lows

This will be the way of dust

But in spite of ebb and flows

Fear seeks faith; in God we trust

Sequences of rise-and-fall

Roller-coaster rendezvous

Surge-receding madrigal

Hallelujahs rival blues  

Gold and gray perplexing skies

Hearts weep as we hold-let-go

Still we scan our sweep of sighs

Count our blessings, not our woe

Season-rubrics vexes sod

Step by step we test its dust

Clinging to a changeless Rod

As we go; in God we trust

© Janet Martin

This morning the news speaks of record lows in temperatures and record highs coming for gas prices…We look up; in God we trust.

A slow warm-up will not be a bad thing; without it they predict drastic flooding.