Of Midnight Tiptoes...

 

It struck me as I heard Emily tiptoe in last night, that in three weeks I will never hear that sound again...those sounds I have never given a second thought; 

and her belongings won't be draped on railings etc... ;)

Sometimes you come to me

Soft like a whisper

Hovering between hello and good-bye

Sometimes you clench the air

Raw and rebellious

Shaping the anguish that nurtures a sigh

Sometimes you comfort,

My thought like a pillow

Easing the void twixt what is and has been

But sometimes you torment

In debut renditions

The bittersweet sorrows of ‘never again’

Sometimes a tear holds

An ocean of longing

Though love has poured out its fathoms ten-fold

Darling, perhaps

This is simply life’s fortune

Of having and holding and growing old…

© Janet Martin

Remembering...

Sometimes we forget

That He who lights the day

Beholds each footstep that we take

And every word we say

Sometimes we forget

Before Time tuned earth’s sod

God WAS, IS and will ever be

In the beginning, God

Sometimes we forget

As doubt's vile demons roar

That God forgives our sin and then

Remembers it no more

Sometimes we forget

That disobedience

In spite of Love’s forgiveness yields

A bitter consequence

Sometimes we forget

That this is not the end

And soon this life will disappear

A vapor in the wind

Sometimes we forget

That God is God alone

And though the flesh is doomed to die

The soul lives on and on

© Janet Martin

 Remember him—before the silver cord is severed,
    and the golden bowl is broken;
before the pitcher is shattered at the spring

 and the wheel broken at the well, 

 and the dust returns to the ground it came from,
    and the spirit returns to God who gave it. Eccles. 12: 6-7

Without God

I could not face the day

Its sunshine or the rain

Without God’s love to lead the way

And bring me home again

I could not face the night

The darkness or its deep

Without God’s peace to whisper, child

I’ll keep thee while you sleep

I could not face this life

Its mountain or its sea

Without God’s grace to fill my want  

And gently comfort me

I could not face death's vale

But when that hour comes

I know that God will walk me through

And kindly lead me home

© Janet Martin

 “The Lord bless you and keep you; 

 The Lord make His face shine upon you,
And be gracious to you; 

 The Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace.”’ Num. 6:24-26

Of Cleansed Cups

The wind gathers mute moments spent

And it is foolish to lament

A season that has passed away

Or pine again for yesterday

Look! Look! Upon night’s waning main

God paints His patience once again

                                

The cup that claimed our innocence

And cradles action’s recompense

Would be our loathsome fear, but then

Because of grace does not condemn

The Hand that holds the universe

Cleanses this cup of Satan’s curse

Beyond this journey, moment-cast

The Prize we seek bids us hold fast

Though yesterdays accumulate

And pinnacles evaporate

Hope fills this chalice with fresh grains

The timeless grace of God remains

The winds gather mute moments spent

And we would drown in time’s lament

But for the grace of Calvary

And Faith in what we cannot see

Look! Look! God’s heaven fills with dawn

And kindly bids us journey on

© Janet Martin

"I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more. Isa. 43:25

Countdown

 

The countdown to wedding is now three weeks! Busy today making treats for their stag and doe tonight...

We touch life’s moments often without thought

Elusive countdown from unknown to known

This Intangible by which Time is wrought

Trickles to earth from Love’s merciful throne

Ethereal portions of grief and delight

Waking and sleeping they slip out of sight

Cosmic inception, its miniscule glance

Grazes our skin and dissolves in a sigh

Measureless moment, how blithely you dance

From fantasy to eternity’s sky

Flesh and blood fortune we never can see

Giving and taking in soft symmetry

Comfort and sorrow, how close they align

The course of moments cannot be reversed

By the same measure of laughter’s design

Blows the ill-wind oft lamented and cursed

Countdown of obscure velocity

Over Time’s landscape to eternity

© Janet Martin

The ‘hour-glass’ reminds me with each sparkle and lilt

How softly and gently a lifetime is spilt

  

Of Things I'd Like to Keep...

Love, I should never want to lose

The strength to hold, but then let go

Or never feel the breathless rush

Of awe for One who loves me so

And I would hate to realize

There is no pleasure ‘neath your touch

Or laughter in a paradise

Of home, where once we laughed so much

Oh darling, may I never lose

The wonder in a bud uncurled

Or plunder without second thought

The shadow-Edens of this world

I want to keep the war-like hurt

Of anguish as I see a child

Hungry, unloved and clothed in dirt

While others drool with wealth and pride

Love, may I never lose the sense

Of things eternal as years pass

And may I never lose the awe

Of moments trickling through Time’s glass

© Janet Martin

Cloud-shadows

It is too much to paint in word

This death of gentian, larkspur, rose

As summer’s azure shutters close

Above earth’s mesa, tangled, blurred

Spring’s garden of dirt-dreams renewed

And bare feet dancing on its path

 Boasts a bedraggled aftermath

Of fantasies tarnished, subdued

Soon, soon this faithful soil will sleep

Pitied by Mother Nature, she

Blankets its girth, soft, lavishly

With leaf-song drifting to its deep

Ah, we have gleaned her moments bare

Morning-midnight-kaleidoscope

Fine mingling of despair and hope

Flings thought-endearments to the air

It is too much for scripted rhyme

Remembrance wields a two-edged blade

As all these precious hours are laid

Beneath the cloud-shadows of Time

© Janet Martin

Of Imminent Interlacing

My love, the imminence of Past aches mutely on the air

The eloquence of word cannot appease its certainty

And though joy wings its flight it interlocks with sorrow where

Love’s labyrinth of living folds Time’s moments tenderly

Planting, tending and gathering; sweet hours coalesce

In retrospect we cannot rearrange its aftermath

How is it there appears a tear amidst this happiness?

As childhood’s fleeting heaven soon is strewn on living’s path

My love, the blush of morning fills the dark and stricken deep

And only by God’s grace can we embrace its mystic must

The fulcrum of existence joins Past’s everlasting sleep

Yet Hope attunes the heart in passages from dust to dust

My love, we cannot linger long to trace Time’s filigree

The imminence of Past makes precious every gifted breath

For soon a choir of echoes claims this present melody

In its fair, finest interlace of birth and life and death

© Janet Martin 

The other evening at my daughter's bridal shower we all agreed that our own showers did not seem so very distantly past and twenty-some years can disappear exceedingly fast!