Of Ageless Assurances...

 This morning is garnished with a dusting of snow!

The morning melts its mercy in mute mantle, faithfully

Across night’s dark abyss; a new day fills Time’s drinking-bowl

We recognize the measure of our vulnerability

And reach to touch the Hand that sees our body and our soul

We could not bear to suffer long life’s grievances of sod

But for the sure forgiveness of a gracious, loving God

How swift the cup of Time fills up to spill in fond farewell

Of vesper song and velvet shadows on dusk’s dim terrain

How swift we fly from innocence to combat; soon the bell

That tolls the ending of a day will fill the sky again

The synopsis of all we know affirms manifestly

Our uttermost dependence on a Hand we cannot see

The gold expanse of second-chance refurbishes the deeps

Ah, what is man that Love should bleed its patience to the dark?

In synchronized imbuement its taking and giving weeps

And, but for grace Time’s offering would be cheerless and stark

Yet oh, because of grace we do not crumble in despair

But reach to touch the Love that spreads a new day to the air

© Janet Martin

 This I recall to my mind, Therefore I have hope. The LORD'S loving-kindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.…Lam. 3:21-23

Psalm 103:10 He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.

Fall's Fading Fallow

The orchard has rendered its ruby

The fallow has tendered its gold

The woodland has lathered its beauty

Back to earth’s long-suffering hold

The banter of zephyr and rain-song

Garnishes every tree root

A moment’s insistence is ruthless

Stripping the stem of its fruit

The brook rambles through barren fallow

Replenished by autumn’s tear

Stalwart, the reed in its shallow

Braces for gales more severe

We too must render life’s ruby

We too must tender its gold

All things ephemeral journey

Back to earth’s long-suffering hold

© Janet Martin

Of Climbing and Canvasses

We each have our own range of mountains to climb

Spilling the art of our attitudes where

Accountability sobers our prayer

Urging us upward in reverence of Time

Clandestine cravings and comforts compete

No one but God can behold our hearts

And no one but God perfect pardon imparts

Thus making bearable life’s bittersweet

Over the canvas of daylight our thought

Paints into pictures life’s moiling chagrin

Reaching, ah reaching for something within

Straining to touch it but cannot tell what

We all are pilgrims and artists; oh God

Called and commissioned by Your love and grace

Our spills and stumbles fall to Your embrace

Pictures of pardon and hope brushed on sod

© Janet Martin

Guilt assaults me the instant those words left my mouth, ‘nothing ever stays clean around here’.

Victoria continues stirring her hot chocolate completely un-alarmed offering words of amused sympathy and suddenly I know I am not ready for a quiet, sterile house.

After she leaves for school I wander through messy rooms capturing ‘blessing in disguise’.

Even so, I believe a little organizing of ‘blessing’ is in order!

 Victoria is painting a house-warming gift to give to Emily when she returns from her honey-moon in a few days.

  

Breakfast Remains...

  

*Mount Wash-more waiting to be conquered! (*a name I read somewhere else:)

And as for you, brothers, never tire of doing what is right. 2 Thess.3:13

Autumn Is...

Autumn is coral on cobblestone morn

Acres of infantry posing as corn

Rosy cheeked apple with rosy cheeked child

Autumn is paint on a palette run wild

Bins filled with harvest and hearts filled with praise

Home and hearth kindled with banter and blaze

Autumn is full-moon on frost-feathered leaf

Complex alignment of comfort and grief

Autumn is pumpkin-pie-apple-crisp love

Faith’s aftermath slipping from summer’s glove

Autumn is moody and autumn is keen

Autumn is brandy poured over lime-green

Lovers find lanes lined with leafy repose

Dreams and death mingle like snow on a rose

Autumn is echoes of childhood on dusk

Wood-smoke entwined with wind-song blue and brusque

Autumn is farewell leaning on Time’s gate

Russet rebellion succumbing to fate

Autumn is sweater-warm hugs, cup of tea

Autumn is wishing you were here with me…

© Janet Martin

Today was everything autumn;

Pink sunrise,

Sun and cloud slide-show highlighting deep blue, gold and russet

Little boys with rosy cheeks

Munching rosy apples,

Hot tea,

Warmer sweaters,

Squash and corn chowder for supper with fresh apple crisp,

Family lingering in the kitchen by candlelight, (wishing for fire in the wood-stove)

Walking through leaves, watching farmers harvesting corn

And over it all a brooding wind tugging towels from the line, 

nipping our noses and stoking the 'missing you' in our hearts,

All the while reminding us ‘who’ is just around the corner!

Of Autumn and Autographs

You woo and you vex

You soothe and perplex

Running rampant fingers

Across timber-tress

And all in between

Where sweet summer had been

You turn green to gold

With ambiguous caress

You gather beneath

Your cumulus wreath

Memories and moments

Of memories to come

How early your night

Snuffs the day from our sight

Where porch-lights are beacons

To welcome us home

You chuckle then weep

You arouse, lull to sleep

Seraphim slide-show

Of shadow and sun

Kissing the air

With ambivalent flare

You steal a day

That has scarcely begun

You rage then you dance

Your tempestuous romance

Teases, appeases

Persuades us to laugh

Until one day

It seems you slip away

And all we can find

Is Jack Frost’s autograph

© Janet Martin

Matrix of Moments

 

This tree never grew as tall as it should have yet tirelessly tells each season.

It seems it is dressing or rather, undressing for winter.

Brusque blue breeze runs its touch over tresses

Limbs once exuberant, lathered in gold

Have no where to hide; they brace for the cold

Dreaming of springtime and pretty new dresses

Solemn and soulful, a gleaned-garden dirge

Murmurs in echoes where summer’s song swelled

And children grew limber while their mothers held

To mute moments melting on Time’s soundless surge

The wind is a wanderer; a tired troubadour

Searching for music in each forlorn tree

Where is the sighing leaf-song melody?

Its notes snuffed and scattered on earth’s umber floor

Masterpiece moments amalgamate; merge

Amorphic matrix of laughter and tears

Falling in half-breaths to hours then years

Shaping a life as its patterns converge

© Janet Martin

Forever...

 Image Source: unknown

No morning, noon or night

No beginning

And no end

No tomorrow

And no yesterday

In eternity,

My friend

But only forever and ever

As ageless eons roll

After this home of flesh and blood

In the endless home of the soul

 

© Janet Martin

My son was trying to wrap his mind around the idea of ‘no Time’. 

For God so loved the world

He gave His only Son

that whoever believes in him

should not perish

but have everlasting life. John 3:16

Moonless Monday Night Musings

Beware of the guests

We allow in our brain

For we become thoughts

That we entertain

***

Oh, irony of life and love

Oh, mysterious assay 

The only thing of worth we keep

Is what we give away

***

All the white-out in the world

Cannot erase one spoken word

Wisely we should remember then,

We ought to think before we’re heard

***

The deepest deep and darkest dark

Is pierced by a just single spark

***

This is the day the Lord has made

Its sunshine and its rain

Oh, use it well my friend, for it

Will never pass again…

***

Thought slips with ease across the miles
Teasing the heart with tears and smiles

Janet~