Masterpiece Maker

Hung upon the frame of Ages

Streams each masterpiece from God

Heaven’s handiwork assuages

Heart and soul, sky, sea and sod

Winter, spring, summer and autumn

Adhere to Creator’s law

Masterpieces by the thousand

Startle spectators with awe

Dawn is never bent or broken

Worship spills where eyes applaud

Mercy magnifies its token

With each masterpiece from God

Who but He can color skylines?

Who but He can tint the seas?

Who but God with naught but thought paints

Masterpieces with such ease

Wrung upon the walls of hillsides

Hung upon yon halls of blue

Flung upon meadow and mountain

Strung in diamond-drops of dew

Whisper, thunder, over, under

God spills wonder all around

Where-so-ever we may wander

Masterpieces can be found

© Janet Martin

 “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?
    Tell me, if you understand.

Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
    Who stretched a measuring line across it? 

 On what were its footings set,
    or who laid its cornerstone— 

 while the morning stars sang together
    and all the angels shouted for joy?

Job 38:4-7

Moment-art

Do you ever do this...vow to never forget so you drink in a moment's silhouette

knowing soon you will
forget

because Time's hands are never still...

 Melissa invited me in from weeding and digging for an espresso-break...

.

 

The simple preciousness of an after-school moment caught me off guard  but even as I strained to etch it in my memory I sensed its edges blurring ...

This too will pass, I mourn

And try to etch within the heart

The form that fills the frame

That spills time’s claim in moment-art

This too will fade, I know

The come and go of years has taught

That nothing lasts too long, save fragments

Lingering in thought

Today will soon be yesterday

Love’s bloom of joy or grief

Drains moments like a little bud

Wanes hours leaf by leaf

Each moment must surrender

Tenderness wills love’s applause

Where sharp edges soon blur and render

All but Is to Was

This too will soon be ashes

Climax of thought, touch and heart

Are every at the splashes of

Life’s dying moment-art

© Janet Martin

May your day be a montage of breathtaking moment-art!

Spring Thanks-giving Hymn

 It is not hard to give thanks in spring, I thought,

 as I pedaled through its rolling wonderland last night...

For winter gales that never came

For blessings beyond count or name

For hope in spite of guilt and shame

Give thanks

For purple pansy’s friendly face

For wonderlands of green-spun grace

For forgiveness for human race

Give thanks

For paths that flow forward, not back

For feet to dance and mouth to laugh

For nature’s free-flung bivouac

Give thanks

For this; springtime the Lord has made

…time’s newness over oldness laid

For seasons we would never trade

Give thanks

For flowers fresh from heaven's hand

For showers lavishing the land

For seed to plant and God to grant

Give thanks

For gilt of bud on barren limb

For lilt of lark when dark grows dim

For all roads leading back to Him

Give thanks

© Janet Martin

Good Enough

If we go down the comparison path its easy to fall into a 'woe is me' trap, 

forgetting that who we are and what we do is more a matter who we serve and how we love, 

Who we are and what we do

When we compare ‘us’ with the rest

Will always be worthy and true

If we commit to give our Best

For what we do and who we are

Is not a thing of trade or rank

But by how we employ the hour

And all the more how-Who we thank

Then who we are and what we do

Will always be quite good enough

If our Best is me and you

And our quest a heart of love

© Janet Martin

Of One Day...

One day the hour will carry

Each to where time will cease

Then pray for us who tarry

God’s righteousness and peace

One day this cord unbroken

Will fray and disappear

Pray each day is a token

Of godly hope and fear

One day this season-circuit

Of bud to bloom will pass

And symbolize our lives, love

A shadow on the grass

One day, stripped of this body

Our last transport will be

Of soul to God, and then we

Begin eternity

© Janet Martin

 Man that is born of a woman is of few days and full of trouble.

 He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.

Job 14:1-2