August Morning Concerto

 As the sun broke over the horizon dawn's blue scarf turned to gold...

The earth is a sea of splendor

The sky a land of dreams

On every hill a garden blooms

On every cloud, requiems

Nature’s orchestral harmony

Of sweeping canticle

Blends bold and bashful beautiful

Into a miracle

Morning, a silk scarf on the air

Wraps far-off hills in blue

While on earth’s front row flowers trill

In heaven-tendered hue

...and we of meeker filament

Dumbstruck by happiness

Are blessed to be the audience

To such a choir as this

© Janet Martin

The sun has chased away those early morning cloud-swirls where eyes are torn between gazing awestruck at the landscape or sky; creation is a plethora of praise today! These Monday morning commuters are treated to a prize performance God-granted!

We Call Him Dad

One of life’s greatest blessings

In tender, countless ways

Is he who lives for others

And never asks for praise

A merciful example

Of love’s humility

He never seeks attention

Or lords authority

A friend, firm, honest, caring

His wisdom shaped by years

Of learning as he taught us

…warrior of prayer and tears

Patient and understanding

Too kind for flattery

But rather with encouragement

He spurs us faithfully

He is part of the best days

That any child ere had

And no matter how old we (or he) get

We still just call him Dad

© Janet Martin

We're getting together to celebrate my Dad's birthday. He is in good health after a heart attack and by-pass surgery this past winter. We celebrate with renewed appreciation!

Hope's Possibilities

Hope’s possibilities

That we cover with prayer

Whilst on we toil, or on our knees

Are everywhere

Lord, grant that our faith

Though anemic at best

Will be the torch to light the way

Through love’s last test

© Janet Martin

 He replied, "Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Matt. 17: 20

The Mirror Darkly

Though I talk through you, over and around you

Pretending you do not exist

Still, still, ineffable, somewhere inside me

I feel you wrangle and twist

Reason, rebellion and servile surrender

Grapple where years take their toll

When did it begin; oh, I cannot remember

Subtle, the swift seasons roll

Bowing beneath Time’s firm, resolute scepter

Learning the art of farewell

I brave the face-to-face proof of my weakness

Honest, inexorable

Silent and sear; eons soldered behind me

Rise like a ghost-town bathed in mist

Staid, stark silhouettes of burned-out illusion

Grapple and wrangle and twist

Somewhere inside me I refuse to name you

Lest I succumb to despair

Grace gilds the silk of a soft, waking morning

Life is a leaf on its air

© Janet Martin

 When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love. 1 Cor. 13: 11-13

Risky Business

 "Now gird up your loins like a man, And I will ask you, and you instruct Me! "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding, Who set its measurements? Since you know. Or who stretched the line on it?…Job 38: 3-5

This looking is risky business

For if we look we know

Such awesomeness can be no fluke

Of nature ebb and flow

And such engrossing detail

Of sky or land or sea

Climaxes, wild and wonderful

Studied philosophy

Looking is risky business

The order of it all

Whether of light or darkness

Amazes one and all

For, if we dare look closely

Then oh, we must admit

The only explanation

Is God, who ordained it

© Janet Martin

‘Looking is risky business’, remarks Annie Dillard in the book Pilgrim at Tinker Lake