Monday, December 17, 2018

December's Destiny or More Than Fa-la-la


 Hope; not like the morning's gold...
 -to-red horizon flare...
 ...before it is tucked in a gray envelope of air


Snow-dusted, star-frosted; nature entrances
Hope is replenished in spite of its ways
Darling, a montage of footfalls and dances
Bears us from ballrooms of lost yesterdays

December dazzles the dark with 'skewed spangles
December tugs at our hearts with time’s toll
December hugs us then twirls us, then dangles
Echoes and dreams in an epic drum-roll

Darling, the days of a year near completion
Emptiness vies with fulfillment in it
Leaving us clinging to lifeline’s from Heaven
Hope without God is a bottomless pit

December is like a Door to Hereafter
Like embers dying on hearths of cold earth
Darling, December is longing and laughter
Groping the walls leading to Hope’s re-birth

Ethereal exodus from Despair's danger
Hearts flock to Bethlehem there to behold
In humble worship, the Babe in the manger 
Where hope's glad tidings will never grow old
 
Holy, the heart’s hallelujah soft-trembles
Mercy excites man’s half-sights with God’s love
Fixing Faith’s Substance sustaining Hope’s candle
On Divine Evidence no one can prove


© Janet Martin




When we linger in each line of this Story(put ourselves right there)
We too can feel a rush of Hope's 'Glory to God in the highest',
 just like the shepherds in days of old, because let's face it
...we all want a little more than fa-la-la-la-la fading into thin air!

 Luke 2:1-20
 And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This census first took place while Quirinius was governing Syria. So all went to be registered, everyone to his own city.

Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed [a]wife, who was with child. So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths, and laid Him in a [b]manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Glory in the Highest

 Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. And [c]behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. 10 Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. 11 For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12 And this will be the sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a [d]manger.”

13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying:
14 “Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace, goodwill[e] toward men!”
15 So it was, when the angels had gone away from them into heaven, that the shepherds said to one another, “Let us now go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 And they came with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the Babe lying in a manger. 17 Now when they had seen Him, they made [f]widely known the saying which was told them concerning this Child. 18 And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds. 19 But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told them.

Saturday, December 15, 2018

Christmas Rush



Seems we are caught on a see-saw of snow-then-thaw!
Thankfully it is more than weather that inspires our Christmas Awe

 


The parking lots are filled with cars
The early dark is filled with stars
Favourite baked treats fill tins and jars
It’s Christmas

Thought whirls with much we want to do
Smoke curls from house-top’s chimney-flue
Snow swirls; girl twirls, her dress is new
It’s Christmas

Lights twinkle up and down the street
Sky sprinkles diamonds to compete
Earth’s wrinkles smooth beneath white sheet
It’s Christmas

Wrapped presents decorate the floor
Beneath the tree; wreath decks the door
The essence of Love fills us more
It’s Christmas

Our feet are torn twixt rush and pause
A child is born! Hope lives because
Joy is not gifts or Santa Claus
It’s Christmas

Rush of wonder thrills the morn
Rush of peace stills fears forlorn
Rush of Heaven; Hope is born
It’s Christmas

Hymns of humble worship lift
His Redemption fills guilt’s rift
Where the Giver is the Gift
It’s Jesus

© Janet Martin

Friday, December 14, 2018

Life's Softest, Sweetest Language...(cannot be learned alone)



 I like to decorate even if life's/love's constant clutter unashamedly collects 
beneath and among 'it'😏


Life’s softest language is spoken most days
In modest mantras and familiar phrase
Nothing to canonize its common cheers
But the remembrance of fond yester-years

Life’s softest language is heard in the noise
Of everyday clatter and clutter-shaped joys
Where without it, life would seem so mundane
…going through motions of pleasure and pain

Like checking off chores on a to-do list
Longing for more than what seems to exist
Losing the laughter because of its care
Stern rigmarole of work-eat-sleep affair  

Life’s sweetest language is uttered most days
In the plain tenure of time’s age-old ways
Learning to savour the ‘stew’ in the pot
Counting life’s favours midst all that is not

Life’s sweetest poetry remains unchanged
…uphill miles, bitter grief, plans rearranged
Supper re-heated, tasks done and redone
'Sentence' repeated without annoyed tone

Working together, not pulling apart
Love’s soft, sweet language begins in the heart
It makes the difference in all that we do 
Where Love's glimpse of Heaven 
...requires at least two

© Janet Martin

This little lovable fellow has a dilemma; 
he wants the piece of cheese grandma is holding out for him but 
it means relinquishing one of his favourite toys and risking someone else taking it!!!
 And not only that; holding all three toys completely handicaps him from playing with any of them. 
Oh, the miseries of life when we want so much more than we could possibly ever need😄



(another chuckle...)
One just-turned-three year old jumped, reached tippy-toe high, somersaulted, couch-flipped, sat on a chair proudly without a booster-seat and more because,
 in his words  "I'm big now! I'm three for real!"😁

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Ink-drop ABC's



From the Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen (a novel)

An angel
A Beggar
A candle
Despair
Exhaustion
Fulfillment
Gladiator
Hunger’s prayer
Invitation to
Joy, a
Kite set free
Love
Madness, a
Noose
Opulent
Poetry
Quiet
Rabble-rouser
Servant and slave
Tender Tormentor
Unrelenting
Wave
Yearning and 
Zeal
Snared on the fringe
of Something surreal
Bittersweet tinge
Little ink-drop 
from a bottomless well
Caught on the tip 
of what is left to tell

© Janet Martin