Oh, Soft Letting Go...

Linger, linger long-ly, oh soft letting go

Hold me in your arms; dance with me sweet and slow

I am not ready to swiftly untie

The strings of my heart to a hasty good-bye

Leave me, but leave me patiently if you must

For I cannot sever love’s ties in one thrust

Tarry against me; the warmth of your sigh

Comforts the farewell that shimmers near-by

Hear how the night-wind moans low on earth’s turf

Hear how the sea-song weeps long on its surf

How can I un-tether a piece of my heart

Where you seem to be such an intricate part?

There are no dead-lines to love’s bittersweet

Where living’s fulfillment and longing compete

So linger and hold me, for I cannot know

How long is the slow-dance of letting you go?  

© Janet Martin

Yes, I've recovered from my daughter's wedding, but the letting go will take much longer...

October-set...

October sets a-fire the tress with gold and scarlet gild

Akin to love when its first bud and burnished bloom are spilled

A sager sort of splendor soothes Time’s restlessness within

Oh darling, love me tender; I feel winter setting in

Fleet fingers pluck with purposed passion every petal-plume

The limb that lured the lilting lark falls prey to nature’s loom

Softly it sheds its bronze and reds, weaving October’s thread

In whisperings beneath our feet and silence overhead

October weans from hillsides every rare, riveting hue

How still the stark, dark silhouette is etched against its blue

As woodland lends its laughter to the breeze, mute moment-mirth

…Darling, our fantasies like leaves soon slumber in the earth

Oh, love me like a lover on the brink of his farewell

But do not leave me; autumn sets so swiftly on the fell

I see its sweeping splendor fall to fence-row, fallow, stone

Darling, oh love me tender; winter is too long alone

© Janet Martin

In the flurry of wedding plans and such, October seems to be setting so very quietly and quickly on fall's horizon!

Moments, like Leaves...

Moments like leaves, unfold upon life’s tree and fall away

We cannot hoard within our hold their unrequited fray

But oft within the drifting tide of seasons, as they pass

We yearn to stem the surge inside Time’s rigid hour glass

The sumac spills its splendor while we grapple with the hurt

Of spring and summer rendering its glory to the dirt

Within the obscure stream of hours winging to the air

We dream our precious dream; its silent death is hard to bear

Oh phantom fount, oh countless count of ceaseless moment-mien

An intimate discourse of remorse and hope’s vast Unseen

As we struggle with devil-foes of dismay and despair

Still, Jesus knows our wordless woes and hears each pleading prayer

Through mercy’s sieves, moments like leaves unfold and fall away

The mother grieves and then receives strength for another day

We wrestle with Ephemeral; we touch but cannot keep

Yielding to the Immortal all those tears we cannot weep

© Janet Martin

...its one of those mornings, ah, well; nothing a mountain of laundry and a good cup of coffee won't fix:) 

 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

Listen, my Son

   

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When you smile, when you scowl

When you tease mischievously

When you work, when you play

I appraise you differently

…and son,

I praise and reprove you

Quite unlike any other

For you will treat your wife someday

The way you treat your mother

© Janet Martin

I commented to hubby today how I find myself noticing Matt's character; how I keep thinking about the quote; how you treat your mother is how you'll treat your wife. This quote is not speaking physically, but it is about character and character is shaped when we are young...and while this quote may not be true 100% of the time, I have seen it proven true more often than not.

Outside my Window...

Dusk descends outside my window

As its velvet dressing-gown

Drapes serenely where lean shadows

Melt into night falling down

In the quietness of twilight

And the aftermath of toil

Now the vesper like a mother

Croons to slumber sorrow’s spoil

Here we seek silent permission

To withdraw from duty’s rod

Silver arabesque contrition

From the gracious hand of God

Retribution for our labor

Spills from moon-lit metronome

To the world outside my window

In the arms of home sweet home

© Janet Martin

Evenings are turning ‘cozy’ once again…

Of Beckoning and Reckoning

  

The beckoning of daylight tugs us from nocturnal rest

Duty requires diligence so we heed its request

One foot and then the other friend, one moment to the next

As deed affirms the gods we serve in sure unwritten text

The reckoning of touch and taste remains to testify

As daylight’s burnished beckoning kindles the morning sky

Oh God, attune the purposes and plans for which we strive

Remind us in each circumstance that You are real, alive

For soon that final Beckoning will draw us from earth’s path

And soon Love’s final Reckoning will plead on our behalf

Remind us Lord, as moment-miracles keen our embrace

Hope is restored, not in ourselves but through Your love and grace

© Janet Martin

 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad. 2 Co. 5:10

Music...

   

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The music of earth fills us with pain and pleasure

Orchestra playing life’s seasons and song

But someday when we leave its mimed moment-measure

The music of heaven will welcome us home

The music of earth moves us in awe and longing

Imperfect mantras of passion and need

But oh, sweet someday when the music of heaven

Ever will ring in perfect harmony

The music of earth spawns a heavenly yearning

Over and over its chorus we crave

The music of heaven will never stop ringing

Praising our God who is mighty to save

The music of earth draws us on in life’s journey

Cheering us upward in its melody

Nearer and nearer to that blest Beginning

Where only the music of heaven will be

© Janet Martin

Dear Alma, lover of the Lord and music is in heaven now.

Her daughter, gifted pianist played at Emily’s wedding. While Emily said ‘I do’ Alma’s husband placed a tender farewell kiss on his beloved’s lips…

I was so disappointed to miss her funeral. She was a dear woman.

Like Moments in a Madrigal...

Time wends its way across the day

It tints the tress of tree and such

A staid discourse of subtle force

And suddenly I miss your touch

The chamber of an autumn noon

Expands the echo of your sigh

I wish that I could see you soon

And end these hollows of good-bye

How swift the hour shapes a year

And none its measure can foretell

But sometimes I wish you were here

Instead of in this long farewell

An ocean-worth of leaves can fall

Without a sound; they take their place

Like moments in a madrigal

Of wishing I could touch your face

Janet~