Tower of Courage

There really are no words to fully capture the hurt of a sorrowing mother
aching for a child that is no more...

Other mothers hug her close

then return home to hug their beloved family closer... longer.

Loss...the flip-side of having held!

She bows where death has redefined

Love-sorrow-strength soft intertwined

And in her eyes the tender hurt

For one which lies beneath the dirt

Where none but God tallies her tears

That kiss the sod of yester-years

…she bows beneath yet holds the hand

Of He who helps her feet to stand

Where nothing can restore the dreams

That death has claimed too soon it seems

As through a power, not her own

She finds the courage to press on

© Janet Martin

(The word she in this poem can be changed to 'he')
this is not intended to undermine a father's sorrow
but, because I'm a mom I see through the eyes of a mother.

Happy-happy, Happy-happy, Happy-happy SPRING!

 We did it! We weathered another winter!

Here's to all things yellow, 

like sunshine,

 daffodils...

 and dandelions!

Dawn’s first fair fronds fade from the east like flowers felled at frost

Each season spreads earth with a feast for eyes, then comes the sting

Where moments brim with virgin vim then dim; but time’s sure cost

Reciprocates colossal, annual losses with spring

Then bow to the Creator whose splendor no one exceeds

Where braggarts soon deplete their store of self-aggrandizing

Not so with He who cups masterpieces in buds and seeds

And ravishes earth’s winter-skeletal remains with spring

Oh, leap for joy; come, girl and boy, release the inner child

So what if somersaults and cartwheels are but shadow-art

Spring to the world is like the soul set free and laughter-wild

Ah, spring to earth is like God’s grace to winters of the heart

Beneath the funereal facade of winter-spent, ah, hark

Methinks I hear the giggle of a garden snickering

Where hallelujah rends the fabric of day’s too-long-dark

And sparks the song that wakes the waltz that sweeps us into spring

© Janet Martin

'Janet, when will the leaves fall' 

asked Little Girl yesterday.

Well, I replied, a little startled at first!

First, in spring, they hatch from the bud into beautiful children, oops, I mean leaves

 then they bloom like green-teen-twenty-thirty-something flowers all dearest summer long...

 before they fall in autumn when frost on the brow, oops I mean field fells everything...

(Actually my answer was abbreviated to more of a spring-bud, summer-bloom, fall-fall answer😀)

Tear-worthy

 My sister Marlene and I were talking about how hard it is to read Easter-themed pieces without tears!

(and that makes it hard to volunteer to read at an Easter Service:)

But, we concluded, they are worthy tears...

Jesus shed tears for us.

Oh, pray we shed tears for Him!

(a few more favorite Easter Songs)

Tears...

Stirred by the wounds You wore, my Lord and bore on my behalf

Because I was part of the crowd; Loud, proud, I jeered-leered-laughed

While You in gruesome horror hung in grueling agony

‘Til the last breath of life was wrung from You, my Lord, for me

You groaned beneath the thorny crown pressed hard upon Your head

Where death’s deliverance poured down until the ground was red

…and though I’ve wept, “Lord, I belief, now help my unbelief”

And though I love you, oh my Lord, of sinners I am chief

…for oft-times I’m still such a jerk and blind, as blind can be

More dedicated to my work and play, my Lord, than Thee

And then I weep, Jesus, I weep ; You knew the full extent

Of promises I would not keep, still, to the cross You went

And staggered up the skull-strewn slope beneath the awful weight

Not of the wooden cross-hewn Hope, but of ignorant hate

“Forgive them for they do not know” oh Lord, my Lord, You cried

As we slammed nails into your hands and spears into your side

And though wrongly accused, My Lord you answered not a word

But naked, torn and bruised You bore the sins of the whole world

...stirred by the scars You wear my Lord, because of Calvary

Where now Heaven is my reward through what You did for me

...so then I weep; without You I’m unworthy to the core

..But, because of You someday I will live forevermore

© Janet Martin

The Perfect Motivator For Everything We Do

 Love is patient, love is kind. 

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, 

it is not easily angered, 

it keeps no account of wrongs.

1 Cor.13:4-5

A new commandment I give you: Love one another. 

As I have loved you, so also you must love one another.  

By this all men will know that you are My disciples, 

if you love one another.” 

John 13:34-35

What excellent persuasion

Motivates me and you

When love becomes the reason

For all we say and do

How soft a season scatters

The everyday of lives

Then tucks its tender tatters

Into Bygone’s archives

…and all that really matters

In daily here to there

Is what we did for others

To show we love and care

Then be not long despondent

When weary of its ‘ask’

Love makes each role resplendent

Regardless of its task

…and makes most noble victors

From earth’s lowliest lot

If we live to love others

With everything we’ve got

With all that we can muster

Let's lift love's beacon high

And imitate Love's Author 

The Lord of earth and sky

© Janet Martin

 For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, 

but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

Mark 10:45

I often think of/listen to the song below, when someone passes on...

 

...and another beautiful 'love' song!

For School-of-Life Scholars....

While students in Canada enjoy a week of March break students of life forge on

...because there is no 'March Break' in the school of Life😁

(Markers of graduates from centuries past)

Beneath the iron tutelage

Of stars that dim at dawn

Each day is like a fresh, white page

Time’s students write upon

...where he is no respecter of

Scholars of days and years

And no one graduates, my love

Until time disappears

For there is always something More

To learn and learn anew

Regardless of zillions before

We have to learn it too

Father Time coaches human race

In ways beyond our guess

Where roads that teach patience and grace

Help us learn happiness

…and sometimes he will kick us hard

To tame habits uncouth

His subjects often battle-scarred

While gaining Wisdom’s Truth

For in time’s class of constant change

Where some things never do

Do you not think it rather strange?

The old is always new

And mouths of boldest boast admit

No one can outfox he

Who taps his scepter on the lid

Of dumb mortality

For human nature is prone to

…predictability

Then bravo to the student who

Masters humility

© Janet Martin