Don't Forget to Pray, Son

Because Matt got his driver’s license the other week there has been increased intensity on my prayer-Richter-scale…;)

I like to send my family off  in the morning with a prayer together, but sometimes the bus is suddenly here and I chase them out with a ‘don’t forget to pray!!’ good-bye. This bus-driver has no idea that the back of the bus is plastered with prayers...

Dream up to the moon, son

Youth is such a gift

Dare to live-laugh-love, son

Where time-moments sift

Through God’s grace to you, son

In a brand new day

But, don’t forget to pray, son,

Don’t forget to pray

Life is not our own, son

Nor the way we trod

When this life is done, son

We answer to God

So if you are wise, son

As time ticks away

Don’t forget to pray, son

Don’t forget to pray

Lean not on yourself, son

Self is often wrong

If you lean on God, son

Then you will be strong

So before you set out

Upon your Today

Don’t forget to pray, son

Don’t forget to pray

© Mom AKA  Janet

 Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;  in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. Prov.3:5-6

Our Only Today

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That pink satin sash binding heaven to earth

Untethers the fringes of night

Unhinging a box that God’s whisper unlocks

And separates darkness from light

Love’s bridled Unknown renders fresh stepping-stones

...In the crook of God's arms we climb

The foot-path of life, where both laughter and strife

Frame heaven's gift... of Time

Who knows, as the sweep of dark melts from the deep

Who will be taken away?

The sun, like a ball of molten trumpet-call

Opens time’s door to Today

And we who remain to watch Mercy unchain  

The Gate through which grace tilts Time’s tray

Are beholden thus to give our best because

This is our only Today

© Janet Martin

 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things. Phil.4:8

Sometimes the Sorrow of Others...

For Jason, Kara, family and friends...

Sometimes the sorrow of others

Reminds us how precious joy is

Ever its flip-side hovers

Between moment-flutters of bliss

Sometimes the sorrow of others

Draws us to our knees

Showing us what is important

For life offers no guarantees

Sometimes the sorrow of others

While we weep mutual tears

Opens our arms to hold closer

That which in death disappears

Sometimes the sorrow of others

Draws our eyes to Those Gates

As we tug on the hem of Mercy

Where Heaven and healing waits

© Janet Martin

 Psalm 145:18
The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.
Psalm 147:3
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

Sh-h-h

Sometimes speech

Is too heavy with word

When face-to-face silence

Is more readily heard

Best, good intention

Clatters from lips

…we can move mountains

With finger-tips

Darling, forgive me

When words are too much

For the heart, hungry

For nothing but touch

© Janet Martin

Opposites Attract prompt from Margo

Dirge for Dead Blooms

 

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Oh, broken bloom, once fairest of them all

Upon your tomb your tear-like tendrils fall

Chum of the thirsty bee, brittle, bereft

Of all the beauty that once you possessed

And hands eager to pluck your bonny grin

No longer reach to marvel at your skin

The flower-field is silent where you fell

Save for the strange-sweet tolling of a bell

Somehow spring, summer, autumn intertwined

Now winter is a garden flower-lined

The bud, the bloom, the bowing of the head

Are not in vain; flowers are never dead

…though Time gestures with seasons, seed to husk

And moves with ease like darkness over dusk

The tomb becomes the womb where Mother Earth

Cradles the petals waiting for new birth

Mourning does not become the lover of

Daffodil, tulip, lupine and fox-glove

Beneath the sheaf of leaf a garden waits

To touch the berth of earth with heaven’s gates

© Janet Martin

While She Is Anne With An 'E'

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 Victoria is thrilled to be given the part of Anne in their school's spring drama, Anne of Green Gables...

...so I have fun playing Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, Mrs. Rachel Lynde, Gilbert, Diana and whoever else needs playing while she memorizes her lines:)

Suddenly I had the sensation, as we practiced and laughed, of a silk canvas being tugged from beneath our feet!

Tip-toeing tick-tock

Obscure flash-freeze

Etched on a canvas

Of memories

Soft as silk slippers

Dancing on air

Soon our here

Is over there

Quiet comes crashing

Through bars of dust

Filling thought-vessels

With wanderlust

Then, back to the future

We hurry, afraid

Of missing a memory

Yet being made

© Janet Martin