Thank Heaven For Poetry

 Sometimes poets are accused of being narcissists.

Sometimes that accusation hits a nerve
 (because it does take a lot of personal time and effort to write poetry)

but then I think of how

often poetry has reawakened my senses

 to the world around me

and the Maker thereof...

I think of how poetry has sweetened the journey

with recognition of nature's changeless ways; 

a reflection of its Creator.

I think of the many poems that thrill, challenge, 

encourage the mortal

because at the end of the day,

 though ages pass

the words of poets from ancient days till now
 prove the things that really matter

 never change...

and the greatest of these

is love!

so thank Heaven for poetry!

Thank heav’n for poetry

Where pages laugh with joy

And warm the heart with pleasantry

That ink pictures deploy

Thank heav'n for poetry

In all its sundry form

The splurge of a syllabic sea

Can take the heart by storm

On dreary winter’s day

Ink flower-gardens spill

To plant upon lackluster gray

A bloom-filled windowsill

Like laughter of a child

A poem breaks want's chains

So let its ink rivers run wild

As long as life remains 

Words weave and paint and sing

And as we drink their art

Ink beauty begins ushering

A poem to the heart

It warms the color wheel

That seeps out from within

Somehow a poem makes us feel

A bit like next of kin

….where gladder, kinder, we

Savor the now and here

And thank heaven for poetry

To fill the world with cheer

© Janet Martin

Mind-matters or Minds Matter

 2 Timothy 1:7 -  

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; 

but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind

Col.3:2
Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.

When we get out of God's Word 

we soon start listening to the wrong voice...

If I would listen to the vile accuser in my head

I’d never write another word but bow to fear instead

I’d bear the weight of failure like an endless badge of blame

Always a little strangled by an everlasting shame

And I could never lift my head to look you in the eye

Or find the courage to brave the unknown and simply try

I’d wallow in self-pity and the mire of despair

And never find true comfort in the solace of a prayer

And I would never dare to trust beyond what I can see

How cold would be worry’s unsympathetic company

I’d believe all the loveless lies hate's succubus would spout

I’d always be the victim of anxiety and doubt

Oh God, if I would let the mind's mocker tear me apart

I’d miss Your peace that passes understanding in my heart

© Janet Martin

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee,

 because he trusteth in Thee.

Isa.26:3

Pure Contentment

This morning beckoned to be a wander-land, 

we contented ourselves instead with its wonderland!

Just as I snapped the photo below a massive crow lifted off, leaving behind a shower of snow...

We woke up to a wonderland where hints of spring had been

Now every spire is a flower, every tree a queen

And everything that was itself seems to be something new

Bedecked in dazzling bric-a-brac and cotton-puff ado

Where wonder never wearies of nature and mercy’s ways

And hunger finds contentment for a moment, filled with praise

© Janet Martin

Honour-bound!

This poem was inspired by the closing remarks in a letter we received last week...

"The grand purpose of our lives is not that we...
(and they expressed their heart's desire which for privacy I cannot share)

—it is that God would use us to reflect his glory—may He accomplish this in all of us!"


Amen!
This perfect purpose keeps us grounded
no matter who or where we are
no matter what we do.

 Nature, decked in snow-glory is rousing hymns of awe and praise this morning!

No matter where we find ourselves in doing what we do

Whether it is a hard knock walk or prayers and dreams come true

Whether we gain peopled applause or labour without laud

We are created for one cause; to bring glory to God

The best and worst of ‘blessed and cursed’ does not affect the charge

One purpose binds us as all aboard time’s elemental barge

Where pray, we muster more than an obligatory nod

For ultimately we were born to bring glory to God

Then in the thick or thin of it;

The kick-caress, groan-grin of it

It helps us keep chins up a bit

If we remember this;

No matter what of loss or gain

Or flying high or cross of pain

Its albatross is not in vain

For where these are God IS

So then no matter who we are or where, or what we do

None of us are exempt from the purpose we are called to

Where in pursuit of hard-fought goals we will be mercy-awed

If we commit with heart and soul to bring glory to God

Ah, yes, his ways are higher than thought’s gaze can comprehend

And though our heart’s desire must oft learn to wait and bend

We will not languish in despair beneath love’s testing rod

If we make our wish and prayer to bring glory to God

© Janet Martin

 “Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31.

Hint o' Something

 The last three days have been a sweet yellow hint of something in the air...

Hint o' something kinder, sweeter sparkles on the sun-kissed air

Where the crinoline of winter starts to show its wear and tear

Old man winter seems to chuckle, (out of character is he)

And the brook begins babble illegible poetry

Suddenly without fair warning summer scenes dance through our heads

Because days are more reluctant to be hurried into bed

Hello, garden books and journals, time to dream a green-thumb dream

Hope dons slopes of pink and purple beneath folds of fresh-whipped cream

Something kitten-soft is purring in the pussy-willow tree

Ah, methinks I sense a stirring other than crepe filigree

Where the remnant leaf is brittle yet still captures our gaze

As we marvel at the little wonders that nature displays

Hint o' something warm and charming tugs a grin from north to south

Happiness begins to melt the downcast structure of the mouth

And we join the curious chuckle Old Man Winter has let slip

Where it seems that he has trouble keeping his white-knuckle grip

© Janet Martin