The Sound of Seas

Don’t scoff
And write me off just yet
As some rhyme-hyped-up maniac
I can’t explain
The need to rein
In, into ink life’s bric-a-brac
Of highs and lows
Wide smiles, oh-no’s
Good-byes, hellos,
Oh mercy me
This life, it seems
Runs rife with streams
Gleaming with would-be poetry
Don’t ask
And judge my ‘task’ at hand
While standing in your
Gifted Skin... 

I cannot ease
Or fully appease
The Sound of Seas
That roars within 

...But by the grace

That grants our days

I'll endeavor to

Taste and see

The goodness of

Mercy and love

And capture it in poetry

© Janet Martin

 

and because of these 'seas' my floor is STILL unmopped!! lol

. I WILL do it now she said,

I will. 

I will!

(while a would-be poem wriggles in her head)

In September...

Sometimes the last stanza or even the last line of a poem
takes longer than all of the verses preceding.
Such was the case this morning, then my sister posted a photo on Facebook
that inspired the Finishing Touch
This photo is used by permission and courtesy of Lucy Martin
Her back yard...

This poem is about September literally and metaphorically.

Is the decade of the 50's the one where we most grapple with the

slap grace of getting older??

or does it get worse better from then on? 

All by God's grace right? in thankful faith we go!!

 

It seeps into our skin with fading cricket hymns where sun-kissed sighs
Ripple purple alfalfa fields dappled with yellow butterflies
It rushes through shadow-blue dells and fells stippled with petal-stars
It sweetens our gaze with hazel sweeps and heaven’s cloud-heaped bars

In September we sense the embers of summer begin to glow
It broods in woods poised on the brink of gorgeous green’s undoing, oh
As tree-tops flare and impress stares captured by nature’s scarlet sash
Before the hill is flecked, then decked with summer’s bronze and russet ash

It teases us with breezes seasoned with Reason’s conflicting tides
Where holding on and letting go duels as joy and grief collides
Because the Beauty of What Was fills parting with bittersweet pangs
As we both mourn and celebrate love’s dusky Musts and musky twangs

It plays an instrument; heartstrings, and enthralls both the old and young
The orchard bent with bounty authors lyrics of a universal tongue
Where far and wide the countryside is at the mercy of a brush
That stirs a blur of thistle-seed and washes slopes with coral flush

It blends aromas, spicy, pungent, fuses flavours malt and lime
Somehow, now dawn feels like a cruet pouring ballads steeped in Time
It threads the gossamer of webs with liquid diamonds none can steal
And heals the wounds of ‘having held’ with wonderment’s relentless zeal

In September we reconcile the oceans cupped in shores of skin
Take of our shoes and wade through waters near and dearly gathered in
Where gardens laugh and weep as we collect a treasure-surge of loot
While we revel in the disheveled happiness of blooms and fruit

In September, life feels like a harbour where memories are moored
Or like an arbour traced with tendrils to the Mast of Past secured
In September we remember once again, summer’s hurried stride
Dropping notes to a love-song, like rose-petals strewn before a bride

© Janet Martin

Because of Soul-diers in Training

Because we are training a whole new generation of Soul-diers

we ought to give earnest heed to what we teach and the resources/

Real Source we trust!

 

 

 After a bit of a domestic 'kerfuffle' 😛

(because the end of Eph.5:33 is not a suggestion)

and after coming to a peaceful understanding

I am re-linking to the article 

I think so very worth our reading-while

regardless what our political views are!

Read it here

(Because the Symptom that causes Downfall is universal!)

 

It seems these days man casts aside without much thought at all
The Truth that sets us free to which all are accountable
Ignorance dares to spit at God and trust in what they see
While blaming Him for consequence of cold, bold apathy

These days Stupidity masquerades as intelligence
Discernment has no Foothold therefore cannot influence
The high regard we ought to give to Wisdom, most deny
(Though it is nothing new to exchange the Truth for a lie)

Adam and Eve in Eden doubted God and were deceived
Desire saw the fruit looked good to eat, and disbelieved
And conceived sin; and sin when it is finished brings forth death
These days it seems that few revere that Gate of Final Breath

These days it seems the masses deem Goodness without a Source
As if the pinnacle of This was Some Thing/king they enforce
Not knowing God chose foolish things to shame the worldly-wise
the weak to shame the strong; He loves the things that they despise

These days the epidemic of Soul-sickness rages wild
Without diagnosis; without fear of God reconciled
Where hope is a delusion and justice a mockery
The Obvious ignored by those who praise depravity



1 Cor.1:20-21 BSB


Where is the wise man? 

Where is the scribe? 

Where is the philosopher of this age? 

Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?

 21For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know Him, 

God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe.

Where Waves of Outrage Roar...Reach Out!

Love suffers long and is kind.
1 Cor.13:4

 

The song below reminds us we all have

the ability and opportunity to do Something!

There is no small Goodness in God's eyes.

Do Something! Matthew West

It is impossible to sit with idle folded hands,
to clench an angry fist
while reaching out...

Reach out; where waves of outrage roar in darkness and despair
Reach out; let Jesus calm the storm through faith's patience and prayer
Reach out; and be the hands of Jesus in a world of strife
To cheer, to dry the mourner’s tears or dress the wounds of life

Reach out, and do not be confused by views, ignorance-blurred
When Jesus was falsely accused, He answered not a word
But stooped to heal the lame, deaf, blind with tender sympathy
Amidst the plots to frame and fault His kind humility

Reach out; each private kindness One who witnesses, records
Without a pedestal or walls that showcase grand awards
Reach out; without the handicap of partiality
And be the hands and feet that Jesus here on earth would be 

 

Reach out; we all want God though many think that they do not

Reach out; where waves of outrage roar in merciless onslaught

And be a glimpse of Him in a depraved and broken world

Reach out and be Love's beautiful banner of grace unfurled

Love suffers long and it is kind in spite of blind rebuff

God keeps his promises and in them we all find Enough

To grant the strength and courage to reach out to one in need

And let the love and mercy of The Giver intercede

© Janet Martin

After a Certain Stage/Age...;-)

 

Far-off gazes are reined in now
Too much joy/care too close to home
Love is like a wide-flung window
With a view second to none

What a war-room of emotions
Time enough unfolds the truth
We no longer flirt with notions
Of another crack at youth

We have learned Life is a lover
That can stab us in the back
And that we all need each other
To make up for what we lack

What a swift, surprising sojourn
Where the ups and downs thus far
From the nucleus of newborn
Shapes us into who we are

…as an air of Deeper Dawning
Keens awareness to Time’s toll
Where we sense the chill of Autumn
In the Summer/Summ'ner of the Soul

And we start to feel the ‘oh my’
As we take ‘Clichés’ to heart
‘Life is short’ ‘time really does fly’
‘Too soon old and too late smart’

…so we stop to smell the roses
Taste the moments as they stream
Rather than pressing our noses
To ‘supposes’ of a dream

 
While we bear love’s full-time labour
More aware of Past’s vast shelves
As we learn to love our neighbour
And think less of Little Selves

Heartache molds a purposed blindness
Hones honest humility
Metes the milk of human kindness
Where harsh judgement used to be

…far-off gazes more reined in now
Too much close at hand to greet
Where Love/life like a stained glass window
Casts reflections bittersweet 

...then pray, we have found Trust's Anchor

In God's kind mercy renewed

Pray the Presence of Love's Author

Fills our hearts with gratitude

 

Gratitude for home-spun wonders

For His kind keeping thus far

For the grace that forgives blunders

While becoming who we are

 

...where Farewell has shed its molding

Origami of hello 

With deft fingers always folding

Holding into letting go

 

© Janet Martin