Some-Things or Some-One To Sing About

Proverbs 12:25
Anxiety weighs down the heart of a man, 

but a good word cheers it up.

Isa.50:4

He wakens me morning by morning, 

wakens my ear to listen like one being instructed.

Eyes to see and ears to hear; 

Mouths, His worthy praise to spill 

Where the headlines broadcast fear 

God’s Word whispers ‘peace be still’ 

Hope to heap the heart with joy 

Faith to trust Invisible 

Love to heal hate’s hurtful ploy 

God who makes it possible 

Season-circuit none can sway 

Seed instilled with harvest-fare 

Morning to brush night away 

God who hears the humble prayer 

Laughter’s medicine to cheer 

Let its sparkles fill the room 

Time is just the way, my dear 

To God, greater than doom’s gloom 

Beauty breathed to common ground 

Duty to bequeath the task 

Countless mercies that abound 

God who knows before we ask 

Tea kettles with home-sweet tune 

Happiness in simple things 

Yellow cello of high noon 

God who holds and tunes its strings 

Courage, not by mortal creed 

But as we confess our sin 

We are given what we need 

By the grace of God within 

A most able Hand to hold 

Though some doubt His wherewithal 

Whether we are young or old 

God so loves us above all 

Longing’s sacred appetite 

Heaven-glimpses framed in pink 

Poetry too grand to write 

As we marvel at God’s ink 

God with each and every one 

To all who believe, hope’s door 

Then, when this small life is done 

We with God forevermore 

© Janet Martin 

Morning Has Broken

Prelude to the Fulfilled Promise

Rom.1:20

For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--

his eternal power and divine nature--

have been clearly seen, 

being understood from what has been made, 

so that people are without excuse.

Dusk was a divine blend of mauve, pink and blue...

He flings fragments of grandeur to the frames of earth and sky 

And draws from worship’s wonder the pure homage of ‘oh my’ 

Oh so much that we wished for disappears as we behold 

The beauty from a Troubadour whose art never grows old 

He exceeds expectation without stipulation’s fence 

The Author of elation showcases His evidence 

And extends with His handiwork on sky and land and sea 

An open invitation to Creation’s Gallery 

Ah, who could afford the price of a daily ‘looking fee’ 

If God would change his mind and not awe humankind for free 

If we needed a ticket to see clouds or sun-moon-stars 

Or to feast eyes on the Beauty of earth’s four-season bars 

He manifests his qualities, eternal and divine 

In the wondrous intricacies of Creation’s design 

So that we are without excuse in recognizing He 

Who spills His transcendental proof on sky and land and sea 

We are treated to glimpses of God’s Supreme Majesty 

Ere Heaven stuns the faithful ones with promised wait-and-see 

He tells us these are but the outer fringes of His ways 

The faintest whispers sparking the prelude to endless praise 

© Janet Martin 

The Bard to the Ballad or Sky Full of Thorns

 

It's hard to form 'The Poem' 

exactly like we feel it,

isn't it?

But, if each and every one is mustered

 (if not mastered), 

all for the glory of God,

then each one is perfectly worth it, 

imperfections included.

Sometimes I crave your consent without scavenging the sky 

But still, you remain distant, like the shadow of a sigh 

And I must satisfy myself with hints of what might be 

While learning the allure and anguish of you, Poetry 

How is it that delight and angst are so closely aligned 

A tango of persistence and fulfillment intertwined 

Where the hunter and hunted flit between the head and heart 

Like flickers of a candle or precision of a dart 

The world is full of whispers taunting, haunting acumen 

I want to snare you like the pearl of raindrops, in a pen 

To spill into ink-flowers that will bloom from age to age 

And flourish in a garden, yellow and brittle with page 

Sometimes I wish that you would yield your mist and mirage ways 

And humour Poet’s hunger with the perfect twist of phrase 

But Poetry, it seems to me, you give your head a toss 

And prompt me to remember who, between us two, is boss 

Oh, what a love-and-hate-routine is this syllabic chase 

Like pictures on a phantom screen that I can almost trace 

You drive me wild with glints of what a Masterpiece would be 

If I were more than just a child of verses, Poetry 

You taunt me with an essence that methinks is kin to love 

And I can almost touch you, but am not quite tall enough 

So, I must satisfy myself with top-shelf tippy-toes 

And bear the prick of thorns while reaching, reaching for the rose 

© Janet Martin 

Hope Is Life's Highway to Heaven...

Altar after altar after altar

Sacrifice after sacrifice after sacrifice

every morning and night 

day after day after day

week after week after week

 year after year after year

decade after decade

to pay for the sins of the people

and to remind them 

of the mercy and grace of God

until One Day 

One Sacrifice

Once 

For All!

Listen to Sunday Service Dec. 27 minutes 39-41 

 to hear the above thoughts spoken of so wonderfully!

Listen to the whole message to hear 

 the Greatest Story of profound love

authoring Living Hope!

Hope is life’s highway to Heaven 

Hope is joy through sorrows met 

By the Promise God has given 

As the Temple-veil was riven 

And the sins of man forgiven 

By His Son who paid our debt 

Hope is life’s exceeding glory 

Nothing annuls Calvary 

Though its bloody scene is gory 

For our state so mean and sorry 

Love suffered Redemption’s Story 

And authored Hope’s Surety 

Hope is mankind’s consolation 

In a world so full of loss 

For the sake of soul’s salvation 

The Lord and God of creation 

Did not doom us to damnation 

But broke sin’s curse on the cross 

Hope is life’s breathtaking beauty 

King of king’s humility 

Bore more than a ‘tour of duty’ 

He beheld our hopeless pity 

Then secured, through death, the Vict’ry 

That grants life eternally 

Hope is not a fickle feather 

Dangling on a chain of whim 

Hope is the unfailing tether 

That by faith will help us weather 

Time, until we altogether 

Look upon love’s scars and Him 

© Janet Martin 

Tell Me The Old, Old Story

Of Open Ark-door

Whether morn is gold or gray

Mercy molds each brand new day

This is the day the Lord has made.

We will rejoice and be glad in it

Psalm 118:24

Ah, here it is, A brand new This; The day the Lord has made 

He crowns Bygone’s echo-abyss with Mercy’s balustrade 

Where want will lure but hope secures what we all see in part 

And heaven only knows the highs and lows it will impart 

Ah, here are we; humanity, the apple of God’s eye 

He watches over you and me through every low and high 

Where dreams will break and hearts will ache and hope will feel quite frayed 

But we are all wrapped in love’s shawl; this day the Lord has made 

Ah, here he IS; no genesis or exodus to He 

Who crowns Bygone’s soldered abyss with Opportunity 

Where one and all receive equal shares in time’s latest lease 

And play a part within the heart of Mercy’s Masterpiece 

Ah, here it is; the Truth of this; the day the Lord has made 

Is like a kind and holy kiss of God’s grace, un-betrayed 

Where He does not extend for aught Time’s sacred season-sum 

But flings ashore the Ark’s wide door and beckons to all, ‘come’ 

© Janet Martin 

2 Pet.3:9

The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, 

as some count slackness, 

but is longsuffering toward us, 

not willing that any should perish 

but that all should come to repentance.

Benediction and Resolution

I'll Wish I Had Given Him More

I went on a hymn-hunt after the message today

after the man who brought the message shared the lyrics.

Thank-you Richard!

 (also for the last line in this poem)

This benediction to the Old Year is more like a resolve for the New,

To grasp with renewed wonder 

To timeless truths of old 

And satisfy heart-hunger 

With what hands cannot hold 

To sense the thread of moments 

Unravel as they weave 

A sacred recrudescence 

Deigned by Who we believe 

To cling with firm conviction 

To He who does not shift 

And anchor each ambition 

In hope’s unashamed gift 

To not become too weary 

To do the good I/we ought 

But press toward the vic’try 

In a good fight well-fought 

To guard against the anguish 

Of disillusionment 

And not let love’s cause languish 

In selfish discontent 

To trust the Rock of Ages 

Amidst the raging gale 

And hold on to the Pages 

That Last Gasp will unveil 

To pay closer attention 

(lest God forbid, it slips) 

To the gift of redemption 

And Soul-dier it equips 

To not let vain emotion 

Control life’s little lease 

But make love's sole devotion 

Salvation’s Centerpiece 

© Janet Martin 

Joshua 23:11,12
Take good heed therefore unto yourselves, 

that ye love the LORD your God…

I'm Glad To Know

 

When focus gets out of fix

and faith gets out of focus

it's time to fix faith's focus!

Yesterday on my walk it felt a bit like peering into the future...

couldn't see very far!

This morning a bit of yesterday's 'future' has unfolded 

bringing with its flurry, for some, celebration, for others, sorrow. 

So it will be until time is fulfilled.

I’m glad I cannot see beneath to thoughts you do not speak 

Or sorrows that yet wait to press their tear upon my cheek 

Or trials to perfect the fledgling Faith authored by he 

Who loves us so He clarifies our authenticity 

The best and worst yet veiled by moments time has not yet spilled 

Through hours not yet come to pass in days not yet fulfilled 

Can entertain our guess and humour fancy’s raving ranks 

But none can see the pieces yet that wait to fill yon blanks 

I’m glad that we can know, He whom by faith we have believed 

Is able to keep that which we commit, by faith achieved 

Where between now and when we meet Then, near or far away

I’m glad to know, that God, not men, will have the final say 

© Janet Martin 

2 Tim.1:12

nevertheless I am not ashamed, 

for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded 

that He is able to keep what I have committed 

to Him until that Day.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

The same was in the beginning with God.

All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.

In him was life; and the life was the light of men.

And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”

(John 1:1-5)

For Day-to-Day Dancers

 

Where every high is always hinged to possible pitfalls 

And every low is always tinged with hope because of grace 

Where beauty of beginnings juxtaposes yester-halls 

That weave a labyrinth of echoes no finger can trace

Where we all suffer stumbles that make sacred what remains 

Where skin-thin walls are thick enough to keep out curious eyes 

To worlds that spill through meager frames like fenceless fens and plains 

 Where thought is like a footloose fellow full of smiles and sighs 

Where what we learn is never quite enough to close the book 

On lessons that still wait to teach us what only time can 

Where we will always find something to cheer us if we look 

Where things that really matter have not changed since time began 

Where no one can take credit for what God alone designed 

And none of us can edit no matter how hard we try 

Where what we touch of seasons is soon dust-to-dust resigned 

Where we are all far more than meets the ardor of the eye 

Where star-strewn streets and clumsy feet are oddly interknit 

Where longing’s choreography sustains the dreamer’s dance 

And heavy brooms sweep out ballrooms for ballads not yet writ 

Waiting to make their debut on a floor of Second-chance 

© Janet Martin

Something about this morning's snowy 'trek-and spec' sparked this poem...

(maybe part of it started when my foot caught in a big torn seam

 in my snow pants and landed me on my hands and head 

before I knew what hit me)😀

Life's like that sometimes. We're just cruising along

feeling pretty fleet of foot and fancy when...kerplunk!!