Sunrise

On a rainy morning you are not there

Where I can see your locks of gold

Cascading through the eager air

Into time’s ever-bleeding hold

…and yet, I know you wait beyond

This interlude of come-to-pass

To toss your diamonds on the pond

And tickle shadows from the grass

…and strum the lithesome lily-leaf

Or clothe that far celestial gate  

With coral-periwinkle sheaf

Too ethereal to imitate

The harvest of farewell is long

Desire cannot force away

The echo of a cherished song

Where naught but air holds you at bay

Oft, arm-in-arm we waded through

The noise of rhetoric and rules

 Knee-deep in fields of dream and dew

Where now a sea of sorrow pools

© Janet Martin

This Day in June...Canada Mourns

This day sprawling beneath June skies

extends a transient paradise

where we dream dreams with dreamy eyes

and wish our wishes, wanton, wise

This day flows like a river, blue

above earth’s gold-green avenue

where blossoms bloom in sundry hue

and we bloom like the flowers too

This day of hello and goodbye

sprawls languidly beneath June sky

where some will live while others die

but death will come for you and I

This day is like a gift from God

a gem of Time where breezes nod

and skim this place of green-laced sod

where June seems nearly heaven-shod

This day is like a stepping-stone

carved from the grace of God alone

leading from earth to Heaven's throne

God, help us cherish every one

Janet Martin

In our hearts and prayers, we hold them...

This day we mourn with Moncton 

...and Oregon

This song was sung during the memorial service for David Ross

  

All within me, Praise His Holy Name!

…For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust. As for man, his days are like grass; As a flower of the field, so he flourishes. When the wind has passed over it, it is no more, And its place acknowledges it no longer.…Ps. 103:14-16

Of Time and Truth

We learn too much too late; Truth can’t pretend

It stands unaltered in Time’s heaving lake

Immutable, though we bicker and break

The rules only to find out in the end

What our forefathers suffered, just as we

To learn with jaws dropped low and knowledge spent

Because, though headstrong stubbornness was bent

Somehow determined to change history

We cannot change what cannot be annulled

To ignore Truth simply leaves senses dulled

So then, what hope is there of change at all

Or any good to come from the disgrace

Of fumbling, stumbling, stubborn human race?

Are pleasantries a hoax of syllable?

Will the naysayer armed with ‘right’ and ‘wrong’

And foreboding froth spewing from austere lips

Be champion, counting on fingertips

His shallow prize of self-righteous aplomb?

Nay, Truth is not small-talk but mercy’s gift

An anchor in a sea where notions drift

God, rich in love and grace does not digress

Though Time rushes like water over stone

Diluting what our forefathers made known

No hour fazes I AM's holiness

Where puffed up vanity blinds us and greed

Distracts us from The Great Accountant’s charge

Still Truth will guide each humble, bumbling barge

For nothing here can change what love decreed

And though we learn so late what we know, still

The Truth will set us free to do God’s will

© Janet Martin

Heaven and earth will pass away but my words will never pass away. Matt 24:35

Beyond the Star...

Beyond the star dawn draws ajar

A gate in soundless sweep  

From Heaven’s hold a fount of gold

Spills daylight to the deep

A beckoning of reckoning

Stirs in the human breast

Imploring ‘come’, for none can run

From Time’s untiring test

The morn unchains what still remains

Of all that must yet be

From babbling reams the Unknown streams

In coursing mystery

Its cutting rhyme a pantomime

Of future, present, past

Cascading where we turn to stare

At shadows it has cast

This stalwart surge of sunbeam-splurge

Gleaming on polished sky

Soon fades to banks where fallen ranks

Of soldered moments lie

The worship of our chosen love

Will save us or condemn

Beyond the star dawn draws ajar

Time’s gate to ‘try again’

Thought can unveil a dungeon-jail

Where fear’s ruthless parade

Screams satan-lies, drenching our sighs

With rash mistakes we’ve made

But God unveils what never fails

His tender-loving care

Beyond the star He draws ajar

The proof that He is there

© Janet Martin   

Sometimes discouragement weighs hard

and tries to keep us down

but we must run with diligence

to win the victor's crown

...
Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." Matt.28: 19-20

Mother's Monday Morning Madrigal

 ...off to Monday's G-races:)...and mountain-mercies.

The undone smiles in laundry-piles and sinks refurbished with their due

The morning spills to gilded rills in hope’s refurnished gold and blue

The give and take of living breaks the will of Want-and-Wishing woe

The hour thirsts for its new’ firsts’ of holding on and letting go

The ether reels from whence time steals forget-me-not and daffodil

Replenishes earth’s hungry tress with flower-trees on wind-teased hill

As Bleeding Heart falls to the art of portraits painted with the Past

While in our hand Time’s virgin sand is trickling swiftly through our clasp

The silver fields to which gold yields its giggling gasp of innocence

Beckons to her within the spur of Duty’s tireless insistence

The unchained clock with tick and tock will brush to naught its bronze-frond bliss

While She must learn to love and yearn for aught but love’s lingering kiss

…found in the smiles of laundry piles and sinks refurbished with their due

While morning swells in flower-bells and chimes in climes of gold and blue

The give and take of living wakes within her heart a paradise

Where hours thirst for love-worn ‘firsts’ and hope reborn in Monday-eyes

© Janet Martin