Of What Will Never Be Again...

It's been a week of coming and going until today! Emily just called and I tell her I keep thinking back to last year at this time; it's the late summer smells and this cooler- MUCH-cooler-than-it-should-be-in-Augtober day making me nostalgic...

This moody mosaic of having and holding

Of loving and letting go

Of green turning gold in time’s fugitive hold

Of summer -set’s blue-bayou glow

…this hunger for something that turns into nothing

But thought’s echo-framed memory

Where triumph and failure, close-knitted forever

Jars us where nobody can see

This tumbled sky sadness and blessed-am-I gladness

Sparring in hand-head-heart dissent

Fills fingers with fervor and urgent endeavor

To shape what soon slips from Time’s tent

..and I must move slowly for I sense something holy

Filling smile and soul with sweet pain

Desire and duty weave life’s busy beauty

Of what will never be again

© Janet Martin

Mother to Mother

‘You know how it is’ she said

And I do

That feeling of lonely

November blue

Of heart-letting-go

Of un-clenching fists

Knowing Time takes

Even as it gives

And all we can do

Is savor the kiss

Of every moment

…you know how it is

...how, what we can't hold

We cover with prayer

Knowing God IS

Everywhere

  © Janet Martin

Back-to-school packing/moving is kicking into high gear. We have one more week before the house is one girl emptier...

...and Then, There is This

Then, after kind words of comfort

When other have done their part

We must learn to be humble

And take their words to heart

After the love of others

A pat on the back, a hug

We must learn to be grateful

Responding with more than a shrug

And after the ‘you can do it’

After the ‘you’re the man!’

We must learn to accept ourselves

And then, believe we can

© Janet Martin

 

'aw, you're just saying that to be nice'...how often have we or someone close to us responded to a compliment in this way, whether verbally or in thought? 

O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.Ps 139:1-5

We're All in This Together

Image Source
Many of us know someone whose picture could be posted here, perhaps not as well known as Robin but as much loved!

We’re all in this together

No one a stepping-stone

To crush in our endeavor

To reach the top alone

We’re all in this together

Shoulder to shoulder we

Are part of one another

Earth’s great big family

…of human-nature weakness

And flesh-soul labyrinth

Where none are more or lesser

To He who gives us strength

Thus, we with kinder caring

And hearts that sympathize

Together, should be sharing

Life’s battle to the Prize

For who can know tomorrow?

Who can its fortune prove?

We’re all in this together

Still learning how to love

Pray God to give us hunger

Not for the things of dirt

But love for one another

To bind us through life’s hurt

© Janet Martin

Once again the topic of depression, addiction and suicide take headlines in the aftermath of Robin Williams' death. A few thoughts sparked this poem;  Susan's words of encouragement

and a paragraph in an article by Murray Pura directed to writer's in the latest issue of *Fellowscript magazine...

 

Isn't this a great motto for everyone; To promote/help/love each other because it is the right thing to do!?

Do you think there might be less suicide if we made this our 'hunger'?

*(Included in an  Inscribe membership is a a bi-monthly edition of Fellowscript, a magazine to encourage/educate writers at all levels.)

Of Rocking Chairs and Roving Years

Fleet through our grasp, blithe bleeds this gasp of air

Far-gone, those fair, forever days of youth

Where dreamers undeterred by seasoned truth

Smiled past those wizened words from rocking chairs

And hands work-worn; for all the world was theirs

…where castles in the clouds sparkle and gleam

Bright eyes fixed on a prize unmarred by scars

Moments spill steppingstones out to the stars

And they, the dancers on time’s merry stream

Transfixed upon its readjusted dream

Those dusty, lusty days dissolve somehow

The rocking-chair seems programmed to repeat

Old wisdom where new sages fill its seat

Their tongues still burning with the afterglow

Of all they thought they knew but didn’t know

How, when all is done are dreams defined?

After time’s trip-and-falling growing pains  

As we grasp at the gasp of what remains

 The rocking-chair echoes as years unwind

'All we can give is what we leave behind'

© Janet Martin