Saturday, March 23, 2013

Evening Epitaph





Here lie the gathered moments of her day
A rendering to every man the same
Of hours, burnished gold or sullen gray  
Resting within past’s immortal acclaim

Here the deceased forevermore will rest
No horse-drawn procession draws her along
But crimson dirge upon the molten west
Consoles the bystander in vesper-song

Here lies mercy’s allotment of the dawn
Asleep within Time’s chimeral embrace
While trembling hope spurs us to journey on
To our repose; faith’s final resting place

© Janet Martin

Last night, Matthew tells me (as he leans on my chair reading the epitaph) he had a dream that he wishes he could paint; he and I popped out of the water in the Arctic where we saw the most amazing sunset, glaciers and strange, beautiful birds!

Of Footprints and Sun-sparkles





The dawn has stretched its panoramic veil
In wordless rhapsody from east to west
While yesterday, a footprint in life’s trail
Points one day nearer to our ageless rest
But now the beckoning of hope and love
Rolls out its moment-carpet from above

We tread its thoroughfare, oft thoughtlessly
The miles that draw us up then down again
Are transient as sun-sparkles on a sea
Where dusk begins to lean from ether-plain
To brush another foot-print to a shore
Where we can never tread it anymore

Darling, love is a whisper intertwined
In fingertips, in lips and heart and mind
Though Time may steal flesh bodies from our touch
It cannot rob love’s essence from our clutch
A gossamer and silken undertow
Of echoes where the flaxen lilies blow

Today a corridor of fresh unknowns
Invites us to live, love and laugh once more
Across its shimmered breadth of sticks and stones
We dream and dance, life’s homely joys implore
Beseeching and admonishing, for we
Draw ever closer to eternity

© Janet Martin

Nine years ago my Grandma Martin passed away but her voice and her laughter remain. We ALL miss you, Lizzie.

Friday, March 22, 2013

The Love of God...a Praise sonnet





His gentle finger frustrate man’s design
For we see only fringes of His thought
Where nature’s petal-miracles align
With tempest tossing our dreams to naught
The schemes of our feigned humility
The crass rebellion of our stubborn pride
Can never alter His Supremacy
Or dis-annul the rivers from His side
Pouring to set the captive sinner free
He drank the gall of death for you and me

Look, look; redemption’s Lamb the Father chose
Is His own Darling; oh, how can it be
That He who formed the trillium and the rose
Offers Himself to die on Calvary?
Where mobs assault with ignorance, the grace
Of sin-chains loosed; death crushed beneath the flood
Of scarlet hope; they spit upon the face
Veiled red with teardrops from the Son of God
He died; the Savior of humanity

What greater thing than this can any boast?
The King of kings clothed in meekness dust-wrought
Suffered even to death love’s uttermost
His Mystery frustrates our groping thought
That He who breathed to being galaxies
Did not keep His Beloved at His side
But saw beyond the cross’s agonies
The intercession of the justified
Oh Lord, no greater love will ever be
Than Jesus Christ who sets the sinner free

© Janet Martin   

Jesus, Savior- Alison Krauss




Life-journey Sonnet





This load of mortal care that we must bear
Would press us hard into the ruthless dirt
And there would be no comfort for our hurt
Or healing for the wounds we suffer here
But for a Touch, if we would pause to see
It’s loving grace, from knowing nail-scarred Hands
To carry us through storm or sinking sands
As we long for immortal victory
And oh, we could not rise to meet the day
Or face the onslaught of hope’s brazen foe
But for arms of One who shows the Way
Because He IS and by this grace we go
For He who wept blood-tears sin’s debt to pay
Has suffered more than we can ever know

…and so we rise, not on the emptiness
Of merit won by failure’s fleeting worth
For we are creatures of a second birth
If we have touched His robe of righteousness
Then we know that this fight is not in vain
And though we bear our lot of promised pain
And though through sorrow’s seasons we must grieve
Who wore a crown of thorns pressed on His head
And oh, there is redemption full and free
In rivers of Creator-God blood shed
As He offered Himself on Calvary

God is not mocked; we dare not spurn His Gift
Or blame Him for the burdens we must bear
For those who will endure; this mortal rift
Twixt earth and sky in one wink will dissolve
The vapor of its temporal constraint
Will dissipate and nevermore will taint
The laughter of breath-eons that evolve
Where moments are not counted into years
In Heaven earth’s familiar disappears
Unmarred by foolish fantasy or fears
We touch the hem of Everlasting Light

© Janet Martin

 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Gal. 6:9

Alan Jackson; What a Friend We Have in Jesus

Ty Herndon: Journey On

Thursday, March 21, 2013

It Would Be Dark Tonight....





It would be
A deep dark tonight
Save for the mist
Of amber light
Spilling circles on the snow
Beneath the rain-drenched street lamp’s glow

It would be
So still tonight
Save for an intimate echo
To requite
The surging want of what is not
But for its image in my thought

It would be
Lonely tonight
And the chancellor of moments
Both black and white
Would steal the slumber from my eyes
Save for the wind-song lullabies

Yes, it would be
A heavy dark tonight
Save for the promise
Of morning light
And the warmth of hope’s caress
Whispering against the quietness

© Janet Martin



In March





In March the poplar trees are etched
Like stalwart plumes on waning day
Where every limb is keenly sketched
Against a palette of blue-gray

In March the heart begins to fill
With violet-emerald wanderlust
As gardeners and farmers thrill
To breathe the balm of new-born dust

In March we press against the ledge
Where winter’s will and spring entwine
And all along our daydream's edge
The buxom bud delights the vine

In March the gray and gold collide
Like love; a fire and ice vortex
Of duty, demand and desire
Where will and want please and perplex

In March the woman and the child
Grow restless for life’s kinder things
Like blooming sedges in the wild
Where drifters laugh like pampered kings

In March we feel the heart begin
To understand Time’s transient flow
Portraying tug-of-wars within
Of holding on while letting go

© Janet Martin



I Don't Want to Live...Remembering





I do not want to live
Remembering
How beautiful you were
I want to live
Seeing
How beautiful you are

I don’t want to live
Realizing
How wonderful it was
I want to live
Knowing
How wonderful it is

I don’t want to live
Looking back
Or ahead
I want to live
In the now
With each breath

© Janet Martin

Thursday Thoughts




 On Gossiping...
She returns her pious dagger
To its sheath behind prim lips
Paying no attention
To heart-wounds she inflicts

***
 On Serving...
Someday the bells will toll for you or I
Will we with weary gladness leave this dirt
Laying our soiled and sullied tools aside
 Or will we leave with spotless, stiff-starched shirt

***
On Wisdom...
Choosing denial when wisdom shines clearer
Is like pulling in the belly to look in the mirror

***
 On Walking...
If we do not walk
Prayerfully and kindly
Then we simply stumble
Careless and blindly

***
 On Being a true disciple...
How do I shine my light for You
Dear, gracious Heavenly Father?
My child, if you would be faithful and true
Simply love one another

***
 On Temptation...
Warm and willing is the flesh
Cold and calloused is its curse

***
On Humility...
It is difficult
To overcome pride
If one’s thought-life
Begins with ‘I’

***
On Self-control...
It is pleasant
To indulge in a treat
And wise to remember
We are what we ‘eat’

© Janet Martin