Two for Two Tuesday

PAD Challenge:
Today’s prompt is a Two-for-Tuesday prompt. Here are your options:

• Write a possible poem.
• Write an impossible poem.

It is possible

In a plethora of words

To say nothing

And it is possible to say

Everything

With nothing

But a

Smile

***

It is possible

To hastily

Busily,

Breathlessly

Waste

A lifetime

Serving self

***

It is possible

To serve Him

Fully

With a cup of

Water

Offered in

His name

***

It is impossible

To serve

God of heaven

and

gods of leaven

***

It is impossible

To love

Others

Too much

Or never need

The tender touch

Of others loving

Us

***

It is impossible

Though some may debate

To say we love

Yet harbor hate

***

It is impossible

To love others

Without listening

How can we love

Yet turn a deaf ear

Or blind eye

To tear-drops

Glistening?

© Janet Martin

Do We Hear Him?

Do we hear Him whisper in raindrops free-falling?

Do we hear His promise parting dormant deep?

As up from dawn’s ebony, ether horizon

Mercy and goodness in grace-fathoms sweep

Have we heard Him move in mute midnight’s vain groping?

Oh, have we listened to His tender tones

Soothing the silence where heartache and hoping

Shapes into prayer our raw, anguished groans?

Do we hear Him murmur in poplar-tree tresses

Or sigh in the sway of a willow at noon?

Oh, have we felt Him in sun-beam caresses

Brushing the chill from winter’s farewell swoon?

His power thunders from sprouts in a garden

His whisper rocks the foundations of earth

*Tetelestai seals our eternal pardon

Filling us with His love’s blood-purchased worth

Do we hear His utterance shatter fear’s dungeon

Or blot from the darkness despair’s troubled tear?

Soundless and boundless, I AM's declaration

Cradles the universe, oh, do we hear?

© Janet Martin

This morning I was constantly, calmly reminding Matthew that he needs to hurry because it’s almost bus-time. He continued to celebrate and cheer as he scanned the score-board. “Reimers had a shut-out. (Toronto Maple Leaf’s goalie) The blue-jays won!”

…a few minutes later, THE BUS! I keep reminding him that I mean what I say even when I am not using my ‘loud voice’.

The Truth abides whether shouted or whispered. Are we listening?

'Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.' John 14:6

*Greek for ‘It is finished’.

'They Grow Up Fast' (Rob and Emily are Engaged!)

 Rob and Emily are engaged! Emily is our oldest daughter. They are engaged to be married on Oct. 12 2013.

I took this photo last night right after they told us!

a Mother's thoughts the morning after...

Back then I didn’t know

Eternities were so short

‘They grow up fast’ other mothers said

And I nodded, kissing your newborn fingers

Curled tightly around this new

Mother-finger of mine

Glad there was an eternity

Twixt then and now

‘They grow up fast’ other mothers said

And I blinked back the tears

As you climbed on the bus,

And we both waved vigorously

I, so glad that between Kindergarten

And Commencement

Spread an eternity

‘They grow up fast’

Commencement; years past

While tears shape a mother’s

Joy-drenched grief

Because there are no eternities on earth

Only gasps

They grow up fast

…and you laugh

High on love and dreams

As you show us your ring

And you teach us new words

Like ‘plan a wedding’

And you think six months

Is an eternity

© Janet Martin

All her Dad can say is 'I'm not ready for this!' (though he is happy for her/them)
Are any of us ever truly ready?
Congratulations and God bless you, Robyn and Emily.
Love, Mom and Dad

Precious Agony

They cannot see

How

Translucently

Its tender pieces are strewn

Like perfumed petals

Decking the grass

On a sunny afternoon

And they cannot feel

Time's soft breeze steal

With caresses

Part by part

The ever-expanding

Ever-decreasing

Pieces

Of a mother’s heart

© Janet Martin

Image source; pinterest

Infestation Poem

PAD Challenge: For today’s prompt, write an infested poem. There are many different infestations–from physical infestations to infestations of the heart and soul.

The world is infested

miserably

with a little worm called

me! me! Me!

Imagine how much 

good we could do

if we fought 'me'

with you! you! You!

Janet Martin

Things done for me
Dies with 'me'
things done for others
lives in eternally!

 

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.Matt; 25:40

Ice Princess

When my neighbor said there would be more 'beauty' in the morning we had no idea it would come at a price...no hydro. Our electricity is back after 3 days; for many it is not! Oh what bliss to be able to wash my face with warm water!

...and she screamed her arrival
no poise or grace
did she attempt
this ice-princess
tapping her nails
in noisy descent
sealing the landscape
in a glass tent


Janet

Evening, Come Gently

 As I took these pictures a few minutes ago I told the neighbor I'm trying to find the beauty in this! He replied that there's going to be a lot more 'beauty' come morning:))Alas, the evening is not so gentle now; it sounds like someone is flinging pebbles at the window.

Evening, come gently and soften the gale

Binding the landscape in icy travail

Subdue the mistral of howling lament

Whisper your kisses against its torment

Remind Old Man Winter his time has expired

Then evening, come gently, the trees are so tired

Evening, come softly and gentle away

The pelting of ice tears and land-seas of gray

Cradle the country-side ensconced in glass

Smooth back the ocean of winter’s last blast

The half-budded limb has grown heavy with grief

Pausing the vim of a newly born leaf

Evening, come tender, with motherly love

Hush the snow splendor that weeps from above

Comfort the wee bird hunkered in its nest

While over, around him the wind-demons jest

Evening come gently with sweet lullaby

Soothe the wild tempest screaming from the sky

© Janet Martin

Waiting for Spring

Flirtatious breeze, where hast thou fled

And when wilt thou return?

Thy touch for which we keenly yearn

Is clutched in gales of lead

Ah wooly wind, when wilt thou don

Once more thy winsome way

To tease the bleating lambs that play

On verdant meadow yon?

Sweet zephyr, voice of willow-song

Must thou so bashful be?

The night without thy melody

Is deep and dark and long

Dear vesper, crooning daylight’s dirge

Wilt thou be ever still?

Thy duet with the whip-poor-will

Thrills retrospect’s soft surge

Flirtatious breeze, the somber spire

Hungers for spring’s caress

When wilt thy kiss unfurl the tress

Of wood-land’s gladsome choir?

© Janet Martin