This Sea We See

We stand upon a shore

To over-look a sea

Twixt what has gone before

And what is yet to be

The imminence of New

Is cradled in the Old

And everything we do

Will soon fall to its hold

The gentle morn awakes

Washing across earth’s beach

But soon the hour will take

It far beyond our reach

Lord, touch us as we stand

And overlook its sea

These footprints in God's hand

Lead to eternity

...there are no shorelines where

The Epic Evermore

Lies just beyond our stare

After Time's brief Before

© Janet Martin

Woman-izer...

Don’t mind me, he whispers, running fingers through her hair

He tilts her chin to marvel at the colors of the morn

And fills her mouth with candy, kissing her while cradles wear

Her heart’s innermost lining as the child is gently torn

From mother’s reaching murmurs, he pacifies her lament

‘Forgive me’ still he whispers as her maiden-form is bent

He laughs in flower-colors, teases with forgetfulness

While her children sing ‘Happy Birthday to you, Mom’

His ever-present Presents gift her with life’s cruel kindliness

She longs to gather like a mother hen each daughter, son

And protect them from living's pain that most assuredly waits

While bluebells bob in bonny-breeze on swinging garden gates

…but Pain is the harbinger to authenticity

He softens desperation; we are not forever young

As he slips from her finger the brass ring of fantasy

Lest she is haunted by the echoes of those songs she never sung

...yes, she’s seen knives glint between teeth where lips were shaped in smile

And she is not so quickly taken by flattery’s polished guile

She doesn’t want to miss it all while ‘getting it all done’

In the crook of his compassion he compels her to switch gears

And relish more from less; he holds her like lover torn

Twixt holding on and letting go; the morning disappears

…she begs him to hit pause so she won’t miss a single dance

While woodland gardens bloom and fade without a single glance

Don’t mind me, he whispers, running fingers through the air

He tilts her chin to marvel at the way Time’s colors swirl

And fills her mouth with murmurs molded into humble prayer

Her heart’s innermost lining holds the echoes of a girl

As the height of love’s expression spills soundless within her tears

‘Forgive me’ still he whispers brushing hours into years

© Janet Martin

So the apple trees bloomed and the blooms fell, witnessed by none but earth's Great Garden-keeper...but there were birthdays to celebrate and anniversary too...love's callings, so many and the hours so few...

Today is our 26th anniversary, on Saturday is my birthday...again! already!;(...oops  :) 

The Traffic of Mute Moments...

 It's so nice to see the landscape freshly watered by a shower...(who would have thought we would be saying THIS just a few weeks ago, but we had not had a drop of rain since the seeds went into the ground and it is really dry)

The traffic of mute moments fills a freeway quite obscure

Life’s highway to the sky insists on change; what we procure

Is swiftly stripped and traded for a strange and untried thing

As all the while the flowers smile and summer-yellow’s sing

Time’s veiled eclipses paint the truth of it on brows of men

The Inevitable waits to still the restless, roving pen

While history repeats itself; children grow up too fast

And nothing really changes in Time’s ever-changing cast

How often do our silent thoughts shout loudly to the air?

…as all the while the traffic of Time’s moments spill their care

And youth learns how to shoulder more than human discontent

Where we who are much older learn to bear its consequence

As clenched fists slowly soften and our silent, stubborn clutch

Submits at last Invitations foreign to our touch

The well of want is dark and deep and never satisfied

Until we learn true gratitude, greater than pouting pride

The pen pauses in middle air, its charge too hard to keep

Save for those testaments of ink from poet’s long asleep

…and crowded freeways of the mind must lead to destinies

This futile chasing of the wind will perplex and appease

While sunlight breaks through bully cloud and seasons interlace

With nothing much to show for it but this; proof of God’s grace

As he draws back the night-wind and ignites a wick brand new

The traffic of mute moments sparkles in the morning dew

© Janet Martin

Sometimes Life's Soft Letting Go...

Sometimes life’s soft letting go

Will body-slam you into the boards

So hard you cannot catch your breath

This is the flip-side, I suppose

Of glimpsing or holding a little while

A shadow of heaven on earth

© J~

Because He Promised So...

God hears those prayers we bleed to thought

But cannot shape in speech

He keeps vigil where demons plot

To lure us from His peace

Love, with a heart of tenderness

Will never let us go

Not because we deserve it

But because He promised so

He forgives, erasing in full

The stain of grievous sin

His grace sufficient for us all

As we cry out to Him

And He does not condemn us

Or forsake us here below

Not because we deserve it

But because He promised so

He fills the fields with flowers

And the morning with His light

His right hand never wavers

Though we doubt His power and might

He persuades with kind purpose

And delivers us from woe

Not because we deserve it

But because He promised so

How often we are troubled

By the wearying of want

Inclined to turn our eyes to where

Vile lesser gods may flaunt

But God, so rich in mercy

Abides still; this truth we know

Not because we deserve it

But because He promised so

© Janet Martin