Of Sky and Relevance

The sky unfolds and folds again

The dark and light declares

Today’s beginning and its end

On century-woven stairs

Where sun and moon’s circuits attune

To Eden’s grand design

As year on year tallies this sphere

In ether-span of Time

Look up; the cloud, tumbled, serene

The vault of azure sweep

By day a cerulean sheen

By night an onyx deep

Throne of the moon and star-froth swoon

Of unnamed galaxies

Where ‘neath its sun we laugh and run

Shaping Time’s centuries

Look up; someday this boundless scope

Will fill with trumpet sound

As we behold man’s Living Hope

From temporal, trembling ground

For now its spreads above our heads

But then, a mighty roar

As we behold the God of old

And Time will be no more

© Janet Martin

It is nigh impossible to imagine the sky on That Day. 

Glorious Day

On Offerings

He gave Himself to please God’s will

He faced Golgotha cruel and grim

He poured His life out on that hill

Oh, what will we give back to Him?

He broke the curse of hell and death
Immortal God wore mortal limb
Shedding His life-blood for our debt
Oh, what will we give back to Him?

© Janet Martin

Love Song to the One True God

Holy, Holy, Holy

The love of our God

Spreads out before man’s ruptured gaze

His glory on earth’s sod

The ordinance of seasons

Unfolds His evidence

We cannot haste His reason

Or toss His purpose thence

Holy, holy, holy

He holds the stars in space

And flings from muted canopy

Another day of grace

In spite of our transgression

And passive platitude

He binds us with compassion

As darkness is subdued

Holy, holy, holy

This is the love of He

Who bathes us in redemption

Where our guilt ought to be

With holy tears of pardon

And holy drops of blood

With holiest submission

He bore the will of God

Holy, holy, holy

We cannot pick and choose

Which part of Him we will adore

Or which part to refuse

His power transcends perception

His Deity our trust

Ruler of earth and Heaven

With judgment pure and just

Holy, holy, holy

We cannot disunite

His glory from His goodness

His Lordship from His Light

He will not be defeated

Nor held behind a stone

And none but He is seated

In Heaven on His throne

Holy, holy, holy

His praise will never end

The Alpha and Omega God

Our Savior, Father, Friend

For He IS holy, holy

…our hope, alive and well

And this is He who sets us free

From fear of death and hell

© Janet Martin

Unchained Ramparts

How is it that you press against her sigh

Invisible as spring’s buoyant caress

And yet, with rampant, unchained recklessness

You toss the bulwark of her guarded thought awry

How is it that with door and window barred

You slip between the tresses of intent

To soothe and tease, to succor and torment

Where midnight splays across the silver yard

How is it that lost moments she held near

Return to whisper when the night is still

Pushing against the ramparts of her will

And spilling in one solitary tear?

J~

Unchained Melody

Dawn-song

Dawn drips its radiant runway from the deep

Returning color to the silhouettes

Etched in still-life above the gleaming sweep

Of opportunity over regrets

And from the ridge above earth’s minute trace

Where galaxies unfathomed coalesce

Beneath the visage of a Father’s grace

Dawn’s lends its kind, compassionate caress

Then cast aside those mantles of despair

And close the lips of cold, thankless complaint

The God who tends to sparrows of the air

Surely cares for the feeble and the faint

The diadem of morning’s gladdened mirth

Breaks through the veil of darkened somnolence

To clothe the ramparts of heaven and earth

In shadows of divine-breathed radiance

The dawning of a virgin day unfolds

Pray what will be the bloom in its embrace

Before west-seraphim of gilded gold

Will tuck its scattered petals into place

The dawning of a new day gently spills

Against the girth of somber, slumb’ring sod

Rosy resplendent ripples ‘cross the hills

In mercy-beams to us from gracious God

© Janet Martin

Of Everything We Cannot Change

The weight of everything we cannot change

May press against the levee of the heart

And though we yearn to shift or rearrange

The filament of its woven rampart

We cannot touch past’s immutable stage

Its frozen landscapes to obliterate

Nor crumple like an error-splattered page

The flawed, fragmented pictures we create

But look, upon the east from God’s embrace

He renders to earth’s offspring new-dawn grace

The imperfections of another day

Will soon unfold their mortal mystery

Its path of burnished evidence will splay

Fresh-footprint miles in frames of history

For we cannot thwart Time’s persistent breath

From night to day and back to night once more

Its astral clock will not succumb to death

Until the declaration of the Lord

As on the cusp of earth’s four-season dust

We spill the follies of our love and lust

…and thus, we bear its subtle aftermath

For what we sow is what we stoop to reap

Yet, grace aligns itself against the path

Where joy and sorrow tune the tears we weep

And mercy washes guilty stains away

The weight of everything we cannot change

Will not be held against us on that Day

For none redemption’s flood can rearrange

Or reinstate the debt that Love forgave

To break the curse that bound us to the grave

The bulwark of His promises abide

We are not doomed in spite of our dross

Look; listen to the words before He died

Sealing eternal pardon; from the cross

Where His blood poured in Passion’s agonies

As life ebbed from the limbs of perfect love

And “it is finished” rent the galaxies

Now hope fixes our gaze on courts above

Where Time can never shift or rearrange

The joy of everything we cannot change

© Janet Martin

Of Patience and Moment-flows

 

Image Source

Dearest child, clothed in blissful innocence

And dancing on life’s placid moment-flow

Like everyone, you too must learn patience

For soon you’ll see how swift the hours go

We smile and envy cautiously the restless gleam

Spurring you on to greener pastures sweet

The pure delight of youth’s unhindered dream

Is hampered only by Time’s sluggish feet

…and though we murmur ‘patience, child’ we nod

And urge you on in spite of what we know

For patience is a thing learned as we trod

The hastening of living’s moment-flow

© Janet Martin

Victoria began sewing her rag quilt today. She just asked if it will be done by tonight?! We are both having patience lessons as she is still learning all the little 'tricks' of the sewing machine, but she is doing great!
p-s-s-s-t! I am glad its the sewing machine though and not a car;)) v-r-o-o-o-o-o-m! Sc-r-e-e-e-e-e-c-h!repeat.

Glad Song...an Opposite Poem

A smooth calm sweeps

The warm-waking world

Come hither, glad day

With new joys unfurled

For lo; soon twilight creeps

Over the western steeps

And blue shadows of dusk

The heavens salute

Lo! From the depths

Of woven dirt

With joyful thought

Its lays assert

To softly tease the Day;

And smooth the night awry

They make glad the slumb’ring breeze

And with its mirth ally

Comrade from the deep

Laughing in bliss-pink

Before dawn we tiptoe

Toward earth’s brink

Embracing the mystic east

We drink its celestial feast

Brimming with dark heart-sorrow

And yesterday's tomorrow

Janet~

An opposite poem to

Mad Song by William Blake

THE wild winds weep,

And the night is a-cold;

Come hither, Sleep,

And my griefs enfold! . . .

But lo! the morning peeps

Over the eastern steeps,

And the rustling beds of dawn

The earth do scorn.

 

Lo! to the vault

Of pavèd heaven,

With sorrow fraught,

My notes are driven:

They strike the ear of Night,

Make weak the eyes of Day;

They make mad the roaring winds,

And with the tempests play,

 

Like a fiend in a cloud,

With howling woe

After night I do crowd

And with night will go;

I turn my back to the east

From whence comforts have increased;

For light doth seize my brain

With frantic pain.