Thankful Hunger

I gleaned marigold seeds...because the neighbor was coming to plow the garden 

(another garden-year officially in the books)

 When I plant these seeds next spring, 

Lord willing, I will have a winter of Grandmother-hood behind me;-)

Sometimes I find myself

Looking at you

Through eyes of reluctant seeing

My little girl,

How swift Time drew

You to its constant fleeing

A clock gives no thought

To tick and tock

Or its Quick of imminent taking

Sometimes I find myself

Looking at you

As if suddenly I am waking

…to a world

Of foreign realities

Though time never estranges

My love for you;

I am introduced to

Its physical exchanges

Where womanhood

Becomes you, oh,

Yet, I cannot help but hunger

In spite of my

Thankful and utter joy,

For days when we were younger

© Janet Martin

Maybe its looking after other mother's children,

Maybe its watching Matt and Victoria leave every morning,

Maybe its Melissa's phone-calls from TO,letting me know what's new, what-should-I-do? etc.

Maybe its listening to Emily's excitement of becoming a mother (in approx. 10 weeks, Lord Willing)

but sometimes Something jolts the air with thankful hunger...

From Time Forward...

 Today the sky rain-snows, hard, gray cold

 Yesterday the trees rained leaves of soundless gold

...but it is not Yesterday anymore

New indictments to endeavor

Graft dawn's charge to human hands

Until dark of dusk will sever

And relinquish its demands

Down the thoroughfare of ages

Runs a sage and common thread

In this war that Being wages

None can see what lies ahead

Fear, be not our mortal master

Eyes, be not our single sight

Lest they lead us to disaster

Faith, be thou our steadfast light

Love, be thou our purposed reason

Hope, be thou our Constant Stay

Where time’s circuit-tide of Season

Like leaf-song, soon dies away

From Time forward, be our vision

From Time forward, be our goal

From Time forward, be our mission

Where Death winnows all but soul

Awesome, awesome undertaking

Inhale, exhale, breath by breath

We approach life’s Utter Waking

Where will we be after Death?

© Janet Martin

 The end of all things is near. 

Therefore be clear-minded and sober, so you can pray.

Above all, love one another deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

Show hospitality to one another without complaining.

As good stewards of the manifold grace of God, each of you should use whatever gift he has received to serve one another.

If anyone speaks, he should speak as one conveying the words of God. 

If anyone serves, he should serve with the strength God supplies, 

so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, 

to whom be the glory and the power forever and ever. 

Amen. 

1 Pet.4:7-11

 For it is time for judgment to begin with the family of God; 

and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who disobey the gospel of God?

And, “If it is hard for the righteous to be saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?” 

So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should entrust their souls to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.…

1 Pet.4:17-19 

Wonder-shod

Dawn dwindles the dark

And swindles night's lea

And kindles the spark

Of what waits yet to be

We plunder its skies

With eyes wonder-shod

There thunders life’s prize

The kind mercy of God

© Janet Martin

Enough Said...

Time enough turns into seasons

Seasons into epitaphs

Epitaphs into new reasons

To reverence present paths

Soon enough turns into Bygone

Bygone into memories

Memories into halcyon

Purple-misted reveries

Not enough turns into hunger

Hunger into belly’s fire

Fire into ash-strewn heather

Where hope resurrects its spire

Far enough turns into turning

Turning to new roads to tread

New roads turn to live-love-learning

And the seasons time has wed

© Janet Martin

The springboard for this poem was the first line,
 'written' in a poem in a dream I was dreaming when the alarm shattered its world for the real world!
I will NOT bore you with the details,
because, as dreams go,
it made NO sense whatsoever!

Where Time Lays Its Golden Halo

Where Time lays its golden halo

Where the chime of bluebell falls

Where frost-fretwork gilds culled fallow

Where ghost-wind and wild goose calls

Where the gambol of day hastens

To night’s gambrel, dark and deep

Where the barrenness of gardens

Blooms with echoes bittersweet

Where the way to daybreak lingers

On opaque beribboned fringe

Until dawn slips phantom fingers

Where earth and heaven unhinge

Where we walk with footsteps slower

‘Neath the cadence of farewell

Where the air is like a flower

And each tree is like a bell

Where the heart is like a harbor

And the harbor, like buffed jade

Where the grape is gleaned from arbors

And the limb weaned of its shade

Where each leaf is like a poem

And each poem pure, unflawed

Where the land is like a forum

Filled with handiwork of God

Where the russet-brindled orchard

Yields its apple-dappled bliss

Where the kiss of death broods, tortured

Autumn Is

© Janet Martin