Morning Prayer

Lord, let me look

Not into the morrow

Straining to suffer

A shadow of naught

Sufficient this day

Is its joy and sorrow

Life’s benevolence

Tenderly wrought

Lord, let me seek

Not tomorrow’s treasure

Of provision, strength

But oh Lord, I pray

Open my eyes

To love’s moment-measure

And render to me

What I need today

Lord, let me trust

Not buckling beneath

Burdens of worry

Trouble and despair

But Lord, let me journey

One foot then the other

Content in the moment

Because You are there

© Janet Martin

It's a Beautiful Life

The ebbing and flowing of night-morning brings

Mistrals of change wielding Time’s subtle knife

Carving the familiar with new-normal things

But still, it’s a beautiful life

Heart-fringes grow ragged, tenderly tuned

To ripples disguised in life’s surface-borne strife

Keening awareness of moment-drops spooned

Into the cup of a beautiful life

Babies reach, rush to an unformed allure

Soon son or daughter becomes husband, wife

Discovering in time love’s fierce tug-of-war

Shaping this beautiful life

Spring, summer, autumn to winter once more

Moments spill potent and ruthless and rife

Life-song of heart-throbs bleeding on vague shores

Silver-soft echo of a beautiful life

The rising and falling of Time’s gavel brings

Heart-wrenching changes beneath its grim knife

But still in the discourse of its sufferings

Oh, it’s a beautiful life

© Janet Martin

 Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it. Prov. 12:25

Let's cover this day

Layer over layer

With the rarest refrains ever heard

Let's spill on its gray

The tender-sweet showers

Of beautiful, kind, loving words

On some days we need to look a little harder, but its there; The Beauty.

Dreaming of Spring

And now we lean to that invisible scrim

Whispering thoughts of sweet sun-flavored things

Fingering visions of pastel-petal limb

As we begin dreaming of spring

Crocus, hyacinth, tulip, daffodil

Dapple our daydreams with glad offering

Arabesque zephyrs infuse the chilled rill

As we begin dreaming of spring

Wee girls in sun dresses and boys in bare feet

Stir in our smiles tender reminiscing

As swift-surging hours silent circuits repeat

And we begin dreaming of spring

Dawn spills its puddles of pink on the snow

Soon we will hear its music splashing

In rain-drop eight-notes where now grim gales blow

As we begin dreaming of spring

© Janet Martin

We are under another big-storm watch...

On Life, Legacies , Writing and Reckoning

The chapters that by day we write

Are soon over-taken by night

Against the crimson of the west

Its toil and spoil is laid to rest

Yet in the cascade of an hour

We plant the seed of weed or flower

The by and by of which we speak

Brushes its kiss upon our cheek

Perceptions of its distant day

Hover, a soft half-breath away

Where choice and freedom bears its yield

As fruits of our loves are revealed

Beneath the discourse of the sun

Another little day is done

Its ebb and flowing melody

Draws us toward eternity

And we do well to keep in mind

The legacy we leave behind

The fulcrum of this little life

Though riddled now with blood-shed strife

Leads us into unfathomed deeps

Where this ephemeral body sleeps

The soul is not restrained by sod

But journeys on to meet with God

© Janet Martin

While we were admiring the sunset, the traffic suddenly came to an abrupt halt! we realized how swiftly one can be here, then gone through the sunset to the Great Beyond. Thankfully, there were no bent bumpers and everyone was wearing their seat-belts.

Three Sonnets on Love

How nearly, dearly, joy and grief align

Mystic alloy of pain and ecstasy

A synchronized employment, pure, divine

Love; comfort and heart-wrenching agony

The droids of lust will never know its kiss

Infatuation cannot grasp its role

Of fingertips evoking static-bliss

While rending deep the crypts of heart and soul

And oft, we soldiers of languid lament

Are startled by its potent catalyst

Candid compulsion of unrivaled strength

A hurricane born from the purple mist

Gently and graciously patience extols

Love’s miracle of fingertips and souls

***

Love, wherefore art thou free to all and yet

We choose to spurn your pearl for painted dirt?

Self is master of ‘forgive but not forget’

Clinging to shards of misgiving and hurt

Love; nothing exceeds your hierarchy

Though lesser ranks may seek to dethrone you

You never fail; we fail you brazenly

But you remain faultless to see us through

The echelons of mortal-might deflate

Our vengeful scrimmages of trodden dust

Grow weary; the craftsmen of cruel hate

Will never satisfy the lords of lust

But Love, in spite of promises of pain

Inspires us to love and love again

***

Love’s tender truth drifts on Time’s moment-tide

Evoking thoughts of wordless wonderment

The windswept centuries all have relied

On thee, oh Love of God-breathed filament

As tarnished evidences testify

That love and only love will never fail

And yet its quiet witness we defy

To test anew its gracious, Holy Grail

Oh Love, you whisper while the demons scream

And comfort even in your mourning hour

Your song, a soft and bittersweet requiem

Blood-notes of rare, redeeming pow’r

Oh love, how keen the kindness you extol

Redemption’s kiss reaches within the soul

© Janet Martin

 Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?

Kahlil Gibran  on Joy and Sorrow

The Law of Love

Sometimes it’s easy to bear and decipher

Love’s laws perplexing the mind

But sometimes it’s hard, oh, so hard to remember

That love suffers long, and is kind

That nature of mortal is not geared to hunger

Or search for discomforts to find

The nature of love is unlike any other

For love suffers long and is kind

We do not love for selfish indulgence

Such love is sensual and blind

True love forgives and does not keep a record

Yes, love suffers long and is kind

The recompense of its mind-boggling mystery

Is not casually learned or defined

But repeats this truth , as proven through history

Love suffers long and is kind

© Janet Martin

Unbroken (a Wedding Poem)

How long this oath? We do not know

When death this troth shall sever

From this day forth, but this we know

In life it is forever

What God has joined no flesh can part

Or draw its bonds asunder

Husband and wife, joined hand and heart

Pure, immaculate wonder

For better, worse, in sickness, health

To reverence, honor, cherish

To keep these vows above all else

And never let love perish

For love is life’s most sacred trust

Its charge, faithful and tender

To always put the other first

Proving its holy splendor

From this day forth and for all life

This pledge will be a token

Of love forever; husband, wife

Until death parts, unbroken

© Janet Martin

February Fantasies

It would be fine to wander and squander

A dew-drenched, daisy-strewn dazzling new day

And fritter the glitter of freshly-strung moments

Into the nonchalant meadows of May

It would be grand to guilt-freely amble

Through giddy violet-for-get-me-not dell

Heedless of hours wielding a grim gavel

Over the vagrant and fragrant spring swell

It would be splendid to soak in sun-puddles

Teased by the zephyr of sassy-sweet mouth

Splashed with potion wrought by April’s ocean

Dancing with vagabond winds from the south

It would be sweet to languish in bare feet

Appeasing and pleasing thought’s wanderlust

With treasure of pleasure in middle-May measure

Teasing our traipsing through daydreams of dust

It would be thrilling if moments were willing

To pause in the spilling of green-golden-blue flow

To dangle in spangles of spring-ribbon tangles

Or float on the froth of pink-apple-bloom snow

Somewhere the splendor of buds, buxom, tender

Startles the drifter on his footloose way

We cannot hurry winter’s fretting flurry

Every February must have its day

© Janet Martin