Looking Lessons

If I have grown numb in time’s front row seat

To the beauty of hither and yon

If I have grown blind to the fine-flung sheet

That glows with the rose of dawn

...and shimmers with dew where hue of New

Is viewed as a common thing, old

And I do not see (right in front of me)

The free-fall that beckons ‘behold’

If I have grown cold to the gold of new day

And bold to the point of complaint

If somehow, surrounded by Mercy’s hooray

I miss wonder’s thundering paint

If, in my commitment toward what is not

I miss what is, but is growing dim

If I trample underfoot love-notes from God

Because I forget about Him

If I have become somewhat dull and immune

To the marvel of heaven-lent prize

Then, oh Lord, forgive and help me to re-tune

My heart to refocus my eyes

© Janet Martin

"Janet, Janet", he called in breathless wonder. "Look at this be-e-a-u-u-tiful flower!" and he held up a delicate white teeny-tiny star. Yes beautiful indeed!!

Momentous Moment

Time is a moment-ous occasion

We cannot move time backward

To reform what is Past

Each moment molding artwork

That soon is ever cast

We cannot undo hours

Their discourse set in stone

Like petals fall from flowers

The seed of deed is sown

Past, packed with acts of impulse

Where fact frames fantasy

Is ever at the birthplace

Of what is yet to be

Dawn drinks the dew from Newness

It unfolds buds where trust

Bears care's temporal witness

Ere this day drains to dust

...as Here and Now soft-opens

What soon new blooms estrange

Becoming in a moment

That which no one can change

© Janet Martin

Winner Takes All

Hate dresses up like a lover

Smiles, a disguise

Trying to cover

Lies, lies, lies

The physical attraction

When two liars meet

Can seem like the real thing

But when liars compete

…there is no winner

They are both beat

Playing the game of

Cheat, cheat, cheat

Is there any redemption

After The Fall?

Ah, yes, forgiveness

Trumps it all

© Janet Martin

For Poetic Bloomings 

and the Games People Play

Like Dominoes

Behind closed doors

Secrets are born

But then, when everybody knows

The house from which

Fond dreams are torn

Falls like dominoes

© Janet Martin

For Poetic Bloomings 

and the Games People Play

Miracles in the Making

'We cannot see and yet believe'

Oh-ho, this life, so full of care

Is like a training ground where we

Learn to shape heartache into prayer

We cannot see and yet we know

These words that stutter from our thought

Are not some hapless to and fro

From little man to Holy God

…then, though we cannot see, praise be

That He who knows all things prevails

And turns Unknowns we cannot see

Into His love that never fails

© Janet Martin

 The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.

Ps. 145:18