This Thing...Part Three

Shall we drown in pathetic ignorance

Where vast oceans of information swell?

For what will be man’s great deliverance

If we shun He who stands twixt heav’n and hell?

The rudiments of Knowledge are not based

On mortal entertainment of the mind

Within humanity His will has placed

Ability and its power to find

What He reveals; we are not gods but men

Created by the One who knows all things

If we renounce what He instills, what then?

Will blind lead on the blind in feigned teachings?

Knowledge does not transcend Invisible

Though generations pass This Thing abides

The truth of it Knowledge cannot annul

Base knowledge builds on what the eye ascribes

Only Belief unveils the Law we brave

Belief reveals accountability

Yet, Belief has no power to save
Until we realize our Utter Need

Thus, faith becomes that sacred stepping-stone

For what we see can never be enough

Our vile and guilty penance to atone

Or justify our sacraments of love

So, love provided once for all, a Lamb

His shed blood offers hope, though ages roll

Alpha, Omega, Love’s Supreme I Am

Cries ‘it is finished’; man cannot control

His destiny beyond this leap of Time

Only the blood of Jesus saves the soul

And if we turn away from Love Sublime

Then we reject This Thing that makes us whole

This Thing that breathed into darkness and space

The workings of His gifted universe

This Thing, compassion’s blood-stained thread of grace

Whereby we bless or ignorantly curse

For who would dare to take Love’s name in vain

If with our eyes we saw what His Words tell?

And who would ever turn his back again

If we were shown a glimpse of Heav'n or Hell?

And who would hate the Hands that bore the nails

To seal our recompense; Knowledge is mute

Without love’s faith; its clamoring exhales

Verbose confusion for mouths to dispute

For Love is our lone, Ultimate Hope;

The poverty that plagues the human heart

From new-born cry until that solemn slope

Where life and death are ever sheered apart

Cannot be satisfied with bread and wine

Or things we touch with hungry hands and eyes

A branch will die when severed from the Vine

This truth even Knowledge can recognize

Was not the Tree of Good and Evil named

After Knowledge; and when they both did eat

Their eyes were opened and they were ashamed

As Need became their quest for bread and meat

Yet Fulfillment and Need align within

Thus juxtaposed; ah, tender paradox

God did not leave us hopeless, dead in sin

But gave His Son to die upon the cross

To fulfill Need; and all that we must do

Is ‘Come’; for there are none He will cast out

But those who find Him are too far and few

Many approach but turn away in doubt

Choosing instead the things which eye can see

For Need deceives; unmitigated, stark

Yet, when we put on Immortality

There are but two terminals; Light and Dark

And then what good is knowledge without Love?

But, if we have known Love we have seen God

Some speak of love but deny God above

What good is seed if we refuse the sod?

This Thing confounds meek poets, scholars, scribes

Philosophers and cleric, rich and poor

This Thing we give to get and cannot buy

Or live without; or selfishly procure

What is This Thing for which the whole world cries

While evil wars against its Deity?

Knowledge and ignorance argues, denies

What faith believes, in Love’s humility

God signed its proof, but not of ink on scroll

He poured it, blood-red Passion suffering

From head and hands, from side and feet, His Whole

Wept love; atonement’s last sin-offering

The age of information fills Time’s glass

But it cannot fulfill God’s words of old

Love is the ageless Hope we cling to as

We see God’s ancient prophesies unfold

For what He said will surely come to be

Heaven and Hell could not His wrath withstand

If not for Love; the Love that sets us free

This Thing is more than we can understand…

© Janet Martin

 In the book, A Step of Faith by Richard Paul Evans( book #4 in The Walk series), one line got caught in my thought today...'What a culture we live in. We are swimming in an ocean of information and drowning in ignorance'

This is why I love every single one of Richard Paul Evans books....profound bits tucked into the storyline!

The Ineptness and Forgiveness of Mortal Love

I will never be to you

Everything you want me to

And if I disappoint today

Darling, love me anyway

You will never be to me

Every single thing I need

So let’s just love and give God thanks

Then let His love fill in the blanks

© Janet Martin

Of Loving and Living...

Dawn softly tiptoes from Time’ mysteries

Kissing the dark with slow intricacies

Hope, like a lover undresses the deep

Undoing strings that have held us in sleep

Shall we leave its coaxing love unrequited?

Crushing its dream before it is cited?

Day sprawls before us with reckoning chance

Urging us closer to touch, taste and dance

Darling, the silver of moonlight and mist

Pools cool in the dell, gold on amethyst

Who can resist? Living’s fingertips ache

With weight of desire and love it must make

Unfetter vain fear; let it fly past the sun

Morning is here but soon it too is done

We cannot live on the past and its charms

For then we die lonely in each-other’s arms

Dawn trickles softly from Time’s metronome

Soon it will gather its offering home

It cannot refund or replay its chance

Darling, let’s make love as we touch, taste and dance

© Janet Martin

Making love is a constant laying down of self... Ann Voskamp

Through the Wood

If you should like to hear a song

Unrivaled by mere mortal tongue

And if you should like to recline

Beneath wild morning-glory vine

Or feel time pause within the walls

Of poplar-hemlock-elm-birch halls

If you should like to rest awhile

Where gentle zephyrs tease and smile

And all is peaceful, pure and good

Then you should wander through a wood

If you should like to chase a dream

Where bracken lines the lazy stream

And the whole world is brown and green

With bits of blue tucked high between

Where suddenly life’s little care

Drifts like a leaf upon the air

As you recall your inner child

Before Time drew you to the wild

And hurried pace of adulthood

…then take a detour through the wood

Life does not wait for anyone

And soon another day is done

How sad to by-pass freedom’s hour

And never wander ‘neath the bower

Of nature’s sacred citadel

Out past the sweep of gold-grain swell

Or where the back-road curves beyond

The road well-traveled, past the pond

Where once upon a time we could

Spend hours wandering through the wood

© Janet Martin

 Okay, well maybe not on a July evening unless you enjoy being a mosquito buffet;)

Of Gardens and Good-bye

Although, in Time we are nothing now

But love’s kind memory

I’m glad to know, someway, somehow

This binds us agelessly

And though our paths have parted, love

Know we will never part

Because there are no sad farewells

In gardens of the heart

J~

Of Gates and God

The sun climbs high into the sky

The Unknown does not offer

A greater glimpse to he who trusts

Than to the brazen scoffer

Our fingers rest upon a staff

All we can do is follow

And trust the One who forms and fills

The Unknown's hidden hollow

© Janet Martin

This morning I had a sensation of lifting a latch to open a gate

I cannot predict the twists and turns of life that lie in wait

But all I know is He who goes before me knows the way

I bow my head and beg for trust before I touch this day.

Summer Vesper

 The sunset was, u-u-u-m-m...grand. Actually, there are no words for what the sunset was...

The shadow climbs the gilded gate

Beneath dusk’s grand pavilion

Until blue depths obliterate

Its silhouette horizon

Against the quiet aftermath

Of mid-day’s bustling duty

The Painter of life’s little path

Unfurls night’s somber beauty

And now the sweet familiar dons

A strange and mystic splendor

The moonlight pools on silver lawns

In midnight’s mellow candor

The charcoal hush dims gold and red

Brushing garden and meadow

As all the world is tucked to bed

Beneath night’s velvet shadow

The lithesome step of eager child

Dashes through dream-land pasture

The brook that threads the begging wild

Murmurs in muted laughter

The tangled tress of raven limb

Strums softly with silk fingers

The air is drenched with midnight’s hymn

Where hope and heartache lingers

© Janet Martin

Sweet Summer

Sweet summer sweeps in green-leaf leaps

And gold exhilaration

From mystery to history

And quiet contemplation

Sweet summer swirls, where time unfurls

A swift and subtle stealing

Of sun-flow’r splash and flip-flop flash

Beneath cerulean ceiling

Sweet summer sways in heat-wave haze

And weeping willow-tresses

A serenade of dappled shade

Of iced tea and sun-dresses

Sweet summer sings in offerings

Of petal-perfumed pleasure

In honey-bees and bonny breeze

And muted moment-measure

Sweet summer sighs in veiled good-byes

Where aspen silver shimmers

Against the blue-sky avenue

And in the tear that glimmers

Sweet summer sinks beneath the pinks

Of rhododendron and roses

We touch and taste its gifted haste

Before its shutter closes

© Janet Martin

This summer is sweeping along far too quickly.