Easter Poem Meditation...tweaked repost

He could have sent a prophet
A servant, meek and low
To bear the sword of evil
And hatred's cruel blow
He could have sent a king of earth
A pauper or a priest
He had the pow'r to place His worth
Within a mindless beast
He could have sent His angels
Legions to fill the sky
To spare Himself the anguish
Of watching His Son die
He could have, with one uttered word
Declared all man forgiven

 Or from His supreme visage stirred
The rocks to shout salvation
But no, He chose to put on flesh
The Sacred Son of Heaven
Became a servant unto men
In form, lowly and human
Upon a cross He gave Himself
A King and Royal Priest
And not one drop of love withheld
As death’s curse was released
He could have sent an army
To face the fiends of hell
But He loved us so completely
That He sent Himself

Janet

 who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.…Phil.2:6-8

Rocking Baby to Sleep...

Mothers have many a memory to keep

Kiss-cradle-hug-a-bye-hold-and-release

But the memory of rocking my babies to sleep

Returns now and then in bittersweet peace

‘Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top’

‘Hush little baby, don’t say a word’

Sleep, baby, sleep’ and ‘the weasel goes pop’

‘Neath little star its sweet echo is stirred

Soft on the bosom of mothers they sleep

Warm in the arms that are holding the world

Yes, Mothers have many a memory to keep

But none like the rocking of wee boy or girl

‘Lullaby, goodnight and close your wee eyes’

Soon the bright morning will steal you away

Lullaby, goodnight, my, my how time flies

Let me hold heaven as long as I may…

© Janet Martin

Recently the little guy I babysit needed a little extra rocking due to being sick with colds etc…it stirred many a beautiful memory as I sang the old familiar lullabies to him long after he fell asleep.

These little guys also reminded me of a poem I memorized as a girl because I thought it suited my little brothers at the time.

Lullaby

Bedtime come fo' little boys
Po' little lamb.
Too tiahed out to make a noise,
Po' little lamb.
You gwine t' have to-morrer sho'?
Yes, you tole me dat befo',
Don't you fool me, chile, no mo',
Po' little lamb.

You been bad de livelong day,
Po' little lamb.
Th'owin' stones an' runnin' 'way,
Po' little lamb.
My, but you 's a-runnin' wil',
Look jes' lak some po' folks chile;
Mam' gwine whup you atter while,
Po' little lamb.

Come hyeah! you mos' tiahed to def,
Po' little lamb.
Played yo'se'f clean out o' bref,
Po' little lamb.
See dem han's now--sich a sight!
Would you evah b'lieve dey's white?
Stan' still twell I wash 'em right,
Po' little lamb.

Jes' cain't hol' yo' haid up straight,
Po' little lamb.
Had n't oughter played so late,
Po' little lamb.
Mammy do' know whut she 'd do,
Ef de chillun's all lak you;
You 's a caution now fu' true,
Po' little lamb.

Lay yo' haid down in my lap,
Po' little lamb.
Y' ought to have a right good slap,
Po' little lamb.
You been runnin' roun' a heap.
Shet dem eyes an' don't you peep,
Dah now, dah now, go to sleep,
Po' little lamb.

Paul Laurence Dunbar :

Marching Orders...

Morning spills and fills a sea

With hope’s golden melody

Blue night-shadows seep away

Grace bestows another day

None can know its mystery

What will shape its legacy?

Touch its tide with faith, for oh

By the grace of God we go

Soon the night wind fills earth’s sigh

Today’s hello and good-bye

Writes its verse of love and life

Kiss of laughter, sting of strife

Beg the Lord for mercy, then

Off we go and try again

Surely in return for rest

We owe God our very best

© Janet Martin

For some reason getting up was hard this morning…but the last two lines suddenly jolted me out of bed.

Downton Abbey-hearts

PAD challenge day 17: write a pop-culture poem

Tea sipped from fine china will not take us there

Yet we curl up in England from our easy chairs

With servants, gowns and hats though liberation

Sneers now at stiffness of such tradition

We become Mary, Anna, Cora,  Lady Grantham

Because somewhere within us we understand them

We are not familiar with much of the ado

But ah, we know a Miss O’Brien or two

And the snobbery of royalty still thrives

Lust, love, greed, grief; these are life

And we, blue jean princesses could well wear their names

Because human emotion is ever the same

 

So we sip our tea, love our ‘Bransons’ and ‘Bates’

Call our castles home, search for soul-mates

For we are all Crawleys; rich, poor, in-between

Tested with love and loss on living’s green

Centuries pass; old fashions seem strange

Yet, those things of the heart never really change

© Janet Martin

Epiphany

In that one moment

Every cruelty,

Slight and jab

Climaxed,

Erupting

In blind,

Supreme

Hatred

…and she knew in that one moments every evil

in its darkest, violent sin-cursed potential...o-o-o-h!

In that one moment

She knew

Every 

kindness,

Grace and 

Mercy

Breathed,

Is a gift

Of God’s

Forgiveness 

and

Supreme   

Love

© Janet Martin

 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
Matt. 6:14

God Sent His Son...

   

Broken, pleading, hope lay bleeding

On earth’s battleground, undone

Who can heal man's utter needing?

Only One; God sent His Son

Mortal treasure could not measure

To absolve our guilty groan

Blood of ram inept tradition

Until this; God sent His Son

Law condemns sinful behavior

We are sinful; everyone

Is there for our doom a Savior?

Who, my Lord? God sent His Son

Hate and hunger lunged to slaughter

Goodness, Mercy, Love undone

From the cross pours Living Water

To redeem; God sent His Son

Broken, bleeding, Jesus pleading

Father, forgive what they’ve done

For they do not know; I’m leading

Them to You; God sent his Son

© Janet Martin

 When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves. And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, "He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One."…Luke 23: 33-35

Eventide Elegy

There are far better things ahead than anything we can leave behind. C.S.Lewis

Found the above quote at Words on Wheels. Check out Deb's beautiful and inspirational notes cards.

PAD challenge day 16: write an elegy

Love cups joy but cannot clench

Blessing-beauty; Moments wrench

Now to Then and When to Now

As our love-cups overflow

Darling, once upon a climb

We were ignorant of Time

How this thoroughfare of clocks

Gathers moments behind locks

…how love cups life’s moment-gong

Fading now in vesper-song

Pitter-patter… passion, prayer

Spills and fills our here-to-there

Darling, let’s dance soft and slow

Swift, how swift these Time-gems flow

Phantom eighth-notes gilded glide

Echoing on eventide

Hold me dear, too soon dusk-dirge

Overtakes dawn’s virgin splurge

Cup-‘o-love songs gently ride  

Breezes on the eventide

© Janet Martin

Hark, Hark, What is that Sound?

Hark, hark, what is that sound

That rends the atmosphere

As elements are shuddering

…ah yes, it is God’s tear

Hark, hark, what is that sob

Immersing Time’s embrace

In moment-metered pantomime

…ah yes, it is God’s grace

Hark, hark, what fills the realms

Twixt hell and heav’n above

With hope’s immortal canticle

…ah yes, it is God’s love

© Janet Martin