All, Thanks to Poetry

One of my beautiful poet-friends has a birthday today. 

Happy Birthday Sasha.
 

Your live-for-the-love-of-it Happy-ness has often made my day!

I'm ever grateful that we met in the wide world of cyber-space all because of poetry!

 Another common interest we share is gardening...

From inkwells held in earth and sky

The poets glean their art

Thought-pictures for the inner eye

To hang upon the heart

What friendship poetry inspires

There is no far or near

Upon the hearth where poem-fires

Kindle both smile and tear

My dear, the ancient poet yet

Ignites insight and goals

Because on paper stage they let

The scenes that stirred their souls

All kith and kin alike are we

Which meet among these tomes

A world apart, yet family

Because of love of poems

Ah, you are there and I am here

How blessed we are to be

Part of a world of soulmates, dear

All, thanks to poetry

© Janet Martin

Keep Praying...For Diane (and all the rest of us too)

All I say is keep praying…

These were her words to us as we reminded her that we are thinking of her as she heads to yet another chemo treatment… and the journey is hard and long and riddled with discouragement.

Can you pray too?
(her hubby is Steve)

Keep praying though we cannot see

Its full harvest from bended knee

Or understand the thought of He

Who hears each humble-hearted plea

Keep praying; ours is not to know

But trust the Love whereby we go

And lay before his grace our needs

Then faithful Father intercedes

Keep praying, oh, and do not quit

Hope, healing, help, depends on it

We, earthy vessels can rely

On He who wrestles with our ‘why’

Keep praying; for since Adam's clan

Prayer spans the gulf twixt God and man

Where mustard-seed-sized faith can move

Mountains, according to God’s love

Keep praying; it is not in vain

Nor for man’s smallness to explain

The will of He who hears each call

And replies with His Best of All

Keep praying that our prayers would raise

Another foot-soldier who prays

Where moiling mobs seethe with despair

In a world lacking faith for prayer

© Janet Martin

Not for lack of time,
but for lack of faith
we do not pray
enough!

Don't know what to utter?

Don't know what to say?

Don't worry or stutter

just be still

...and pray 

But when you pray, go into your inner room, shut your door, and pray to your Father, who is unseen. And your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. 

Matt.6:6 

  

The promises of God are for the children of God.

The promise of Salvation is to all who call on Him and believe. 

(from the above message)

...below, another of my favorite prayer-hymns. The words are awesome!

Ripe For the Picking...

For all that we discover

There is much we cannot tell

What waits beyond dawn’s sky-wide gates

And half-breath citadel

The future is a forum

That no one can approve

But drink the dew of daily-new

With these; faith, hope and love

Tick-tock, the sky clock whispers

With sun and rain and dark

Where, beneath it we lie, run, sit

Still dreamers all, at heart

Today is ripe for picking

What fills its harvest-field?

Ah, thought at best can simply guess

Then trust God for its yield

© Janet Martin

What a shake-in-our-shoes each new day would be 

It shoulders much uncertainty

But it comes from an omnipotent God who cares

and knows The Whole and hears our prayers 

 Psalm 119:151
You are near, O LORD, And all Your commandments are truth.

 Lamentations 3:57
You drew near when I called on You; You said, "Do not fear!"

Gotta run...lots o' 'littles' here today:)

See you later!

Today Again

Already we are moving toward the morn of the morrow

Night is a barge formed of starlight and dreams

We do not forage fantasy for sorrow

But are always looking for something better, it seems

Sometimes I see you when no one is looking

We are not older, love, only our clothes

Did you perchance think that I have forgotten?

…hearts cannot order what stays and what goes

Past that carmine-colored skyline, quite gaudy

Midnight is skulking and then closes in

Sometimes its nearness feels almost like a body

And almost I feel your far touch on my skin

Memory is heavy with drifting, my darling

You are not nearer now than you were then

Tomorrow never steps over dusk’s mooring

Midnight will change it to Today again

© Janet Martin