Some Thursday Thoughts

Salvation through

God’s perfect love

Is not only believing

It is fully receiving

His promise of

Eternal life

***

When we are His Own

We are never alone

On this time-beaten path

But we have His love

Beneath, above

To plead on our behalf

***

We cannot fully live

Until we fully die

To self

***

God, teach me to grow

In my surrender

So my life may glow

With Your holy splendor

***

We are shaped

Not by what we believe

But by Whom we believe in

***

 Abide in me, oh precious Light

In my blindness, be my Sight

***

Come what may

We can cope

If we cling to

Our Living Hope

Janet~

Ah, Little Quill, What Mind's You Fill

Ah, little quill within the hand

A simple ink and metal strand

Moving to shape a thought’s command

In curves of pensive heeding

What vast and vexing oceans swell

As scribes and poets seek to spell

The tides they cannot seal nor quell

Of passion’s pulses bleeding

We dredge the deeps of love and lust

Trolling the steeps of trembling trust

To scrawl these ink-gleanings of dust

In line and curve creation

Where ranks of gathered centuries

Unveil the rush of tear-drenched seas

With nothing more than ink-curve pleas

To shape a thought’s formation

Ah, little quill within our grip

You spill mind-tempests from your tip

Folly and wisdom smoothly slip

Upon blank paper-stages

Take heed, oh thought that moves the veil

Oh storm that fills a sacred grail

As we unleash our ink-exhale

Upon Time’s humble pages

© Janet Martin

Of Having and Holding

It is not so much

The longing for your touch

Or your whisper in my thought

Of all that is not

That drives me mad

It’s the ache of knowing

Life’s having and holding

Has no intention of slowing

Or returning again

What once we had

J~

There are no 'second firsts'.

Enjoy the first you are in

for this day will never pass again:)

...so dance in the day God brought ya'

Good Morning!
It's good to see you here!
Hope your day is a good one:)
J~

It's Always Been This Way

It’s always been this way

Life’s tick by tock hastening

From cradle to grave

…and beyond

The sun rises in the east

Strolling its charted course

Man rises to feast on the ephemeral force

…of moments

Transcendent Ocean rolling

Over time’s temporal sands

To an abyss of mystery

…in His hands

It’s always been this way

A subtle, silvery sever

Of time slipping away

…to forever

© Janet Martin

Living Prayer

Meek Obsessions

Oh God, awake in me today

A new and keen obsession

To serve you in the subtle sway

Of moments as they hasten

You seek, not glamorous success

Nor well-worded intention

But humble hearts of thankfulness

And meek, faithful submission

God, let my employment to you

Be more than long lip-measure

Teach me to seek the will of you

In love’s unfaltering treasure

The dust that shapes ephemeral skin

May form mortal assumption

But God, you know the heart within

Its passion and corruption

Oh God, awake in me today

A new and holy fire

To serve you in each smallest way

With reverent desire

© Janet Martin

Stirred by these words I read this morning...

Gentle Dancer

His approach is soft and tender

She succumbs without a fight

Her warm gold-flecked gaze surrenders

To the deep blue eyes of night

There is comfort in his bearing

And a coolness in his stride

As he steps across the clearing

In the burnished eventide

He does not dictate her answer

She is drawn to his caress

As the night, a gentle dancer

Wraps the day in tenderness

© Janet Martin

  

Someday, as the Night-sounds Fall

Some day as I sit on my porch to recall

Life, thus far and the haste of it all

I know I will hear, as the night-sounds fall

The tap-tap-tap of the basket-ball

When there is nothing else to do

Out he goes to shoot ‘a few’

An hour passes in no time at all

To the tap-tap-tap of the basket-ball

Oft, in the course of my hum-drum day

I hear him thrumming the hour away

As the likes of Carmelo Anthony enthrall

Him, in the tap-tap-tapping of the basket-ball
A childhood passes in no time at all
To the tap-tap-tap of the basket-ball

© Janet Martin

Matthew’s first word was ‘ba’ (ball)

At three years old he loved ‘dribbling’.