Thursday, April 17, 2014

Downton Abbey-hearts





PAD challenge day 17: write a pop-culture poem

Tea sipped from fine china will not take us there
Yet we curl up in England from our easy chairs
With servants, gowns and hats though liberation
Sneers now at stiffness of such tradition
We become Mary, Anna, Cora,  Lady Grantham
Because somewhere within us we understand them



We are not familiar with much of the ado
But ah, we know a Miss O’Brien or two
And the snobbery of royalty still thrives
Lust, love, greed, grief; these are life
And we, blue jean princesses could well wear their names
 

So we sip our tea, love our ‘Bransons’ and ‘Bates
Call our castles home, search for soul-mates
For we are all Crawleys; rich, poor, in-between
Tested with love and loss on living’s green
Centuries pass; old fashions seem strange
Yet, those things of the heart never really change

© Janet Martin

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Epiphany





In that one moment
Every cruelty,
Slight and jab
Climaxed,
Erupting
In blind,
Supreme
Hatred

…and she knew in that one moments every evil
in its darkest, violent sin-cursed potential...o-o-o-h!

In that one moment
She knew
Every 
kindness,
Grace and 
Mercy
Breathed,
Is a gift
Of God’s
Forgiveness 
and
Supreme   
Love

© Janet Martin

 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
Matt. 6:14

God Sent His Son...

   

Broken, pleading, hope lay bleeding
On earth’s battleground, undone
Who can heal man's utter needing?
Only One; God sent His Son

Mortal treasure could not measure
To absolve our guilty groan
Blood of ram inept tradition
Until this; God sent His Son

Law condemns sinful behavior
We are sinful; everyone
Is there for our doom a Savior?
Who, my Lord? God sent His Son

Hate and hunger lunged to slaughter
Goodness, Mercy, Love undone
From the cross pours Living Water
To redeem; God sent His Son

Broken, bleeding, Jesus pleading
Father, forgive what they’ve done
For they do not know; I’m leading
Them to You; God sent his Son

© Janet Martin

 When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves. And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, "He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One."…Luke 23: 33-35


Eventide Elegy


There are far better things ahead than anything we can leave behind. C.S.Lewis

Found the above quote at Words on Wheels. Check out Deb's beautiful and inspirational notes cards.

PAD challenge day 16: write an elegy


Love cups joy but cannot clench
Blessing-beauty; Moments wrench
Now to Then and When to Now
As our love-cups overflow

Darling, once upon a climb
We were ignorant of Time
How this thoroughfare of clocks
Gathers moments behind locks

…how love cups life’s moment-gong
Fading now in vesper-song
Pitter-patter… passion, prayer
Spills and fills our here-to-there

Darling, let’s dance soft and slow
Swift, how swift these Time-gems flow
Phantom eighth-notes gilded glide
Echoing on eventide

Hold me dear, too soon dusk-dirge
Overtakes dawn’s virgin splurge
Cup-‘o-love songs gently ride  
Breezes on the eventide

© Janet Martin


Hark, Hark, What is that Sound?




Hark, hark, what is that sound
That rends the atmosphere
As elements are shuddering
…ah yes, it is God’s tear

Hark, hark, what is that sob
Immersing Time’s embrace
In moment-metered pantomime
…ah yes, it is God’s grace

Hark, hark, what fills the realms
Twixt hell and heav’n above
With hope’s immortal canticle
…ah yes, it is God’s love

© Janet Martin


Stained-glass Elegy






They sit like stained-glass spectacles
Tucked in rural burgs and vales
Steeple-postcards; red, brown, gray
Where fore-fathers came to pray
As Amazing Grace rang strong
Before progress stole its song

Here Miss Betty sang off-key
Baby bounced on mother’s knee
Johnny scribbled on the pew
Mary blushed and peeked at Lou
Daddies paused from six-day test
Sabbath was a day of rest

Once upon a simpler Time
Sunday morning bore the chime
Of the tolling steeple-bell
…’Come to church or go to hell’  
Now when Sunday rolls around
Silence is its only sound
 
Here they sit; each village square
Has a little church somewhere
Mr. Brown still mows the lawn
Pausing to reflect upon
Friends and neighbors lying where
No one comes to pray a prayer


...and those doors that never locked
Never open; is God shocked
As He sees His house of prayer
Empty; hallmarks of despair
Like a grave among the graves
Echoing 'come, Jesus saves'
 
© Janet Martin 

If you come to visit St.Jacobs Ontario, Canada you will hear these bells every day at noon.They play for 10-15 minutes. I love how the guy mowing the lawn stops as soon as he realizes the bells are playing...

  

love, love this song by Craig Morgan...



Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Then, In the Dusk of Being...





Then, there it is, where just an hour or maybe two before
Daylight drew pictures on earth’s shadow-dappled living-floor
While we too, with each touch and trip and here and there a fall
Draw pictures we will hang with tender care upon a wall
Then in the dusk of Being we will pause a little too
To watch the blue grow deeper on Time’s weathered avenue

We’ll hear upon the night-wind fond farewells to reminisce
And gather much like flowers faded fragments to thought-kiss
The hours that have stolen precious afternoons afar
Will suddenly be resurrected ‘neath the evening star
As in the dusk of Being we allow ourselves to dance
The doggerel befitting those who’ve suffered Time’s romance

The heart is like a levee holding memories in place
Where aftermath of daylight keens its generous embrace
And though day-shadows disappear into night-ebony
It cannot brush away the beauty of a memory
Where in the dusk of Being we walk slower than before
To touch with tender gratitude Time’s shadow-dappled floor

© Janet Martin

Mid-April Snow


Last night I sensed a brooding  restlessness in the gathering of daylight...this morning I knew why!


It bullies in without invitation
No celebration or rousing rah-rah
Even the robin declares his frustration
Vexed at a landscape reluctant to thaw

Dear old man winter, you’ve worn out your welcome
Take your white troops to the far side of earth
There they are waiting to greet you with bells on
Here we are weary of ice-feather mirth

Hearts are half-crazy for violet and daisy
Our bodies starved for gold kiss of the sun
April is famous for showers, not flurries
Take your vile humor, oh winter and run

We dream of grandstands upon hillside meadow
Where we will lie on dusk’s blue-shadow grid
Somehow white beauty outside every window
No longer moves me the way it once did

Baritone banter of half-spring surrender
Tosses bud-tresses eager to bestow
Green gilded glory of first-blossom splendor
Where you have decked her with mid-April snow

© Janet Martin

Went out for a walk/run tonight; it was painfully cold and insultingly beautiful;)




Romance of Redemption



He etches silhouette of tree on skyline
Ethereal canvas of ruby and gold
Where one more day with each half-breath is fading
Into Past’s vast and invisible hold
He spoke to Being crag, coppice and canyon
Fathom of flowers were formed by His thought
Alpha-Omega yet in every moment
Nothing is born but that by His Hand wrought
And though nature awes the mind-reach of a man  
‘tis merely the back-drop to Love’s Master Plan
  
He left His throne in the glories of Heaven
Love drove this Shepherd to earth’s stony sweep
Not to still reeds tossed in wind-worn abandon
But to draw to Him each wandering sheep
Love’s tender wooing sought souls stiff and stubborn
Here, where the brush-strokes of nature-song fell
Power and passion loved hearts fully human
Knowing the cost of His courtship full-well
Not of red roses nor wine in His cup
But thorns on His head and a cross lifted up

Pardon’s red river still rolls through the ages
Love, culminated on Calvary’s tree
Writes His love story on century-pages
Darling Deliverer sets sin-captives free
Lover of mortal, Redeemer, Good Shepherd
Salvation’s romance of Savior to soul
Draws us from gutters of guilt to Love’s shoulder
If not for Love then where can we be Whole?
God’s grace expands Time’s ephemeral slate
Love cannot bear to fetter Mercy’s Gate

© Janet Martin

Greatest Love Story...Stayed tuned for more...
John 19:-30
Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face.
Once more Pilate came out and said to the Jews gathered there, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no basis for a charge against him.” When Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe, Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!”
As soon as the chief priests and their officials saw him, they shouted, “Crucify! Crucify!”
But Pilate answered, “You take him and crucify him. As for me, I find no basis for a charge against him.”
The Jewish leaders insisted, “We have a law, and according to that law he must die, because he claimed to be the Son of God.”
When Pilate heard this, he was even more afraid, and he went back inside the palace. “Where do you come from?” he asked Jesus, but Jesus gave him no answer. 10 “Do you refuse to speak to me?” Pilate said. “Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?”
11 Jesus answered, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.”
12 From then on, Pilate tried to set Jesus free, but the Jewish leaders kept shouting, “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar.”
13 When Pilate heard this, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judge’s seat at a place known as the Stone Pavement (which in Aramaic is Gabbatha). 14 It was the day of Preparation of the Passover; it was about noon.
“Here is your king,” Pilate said to the Jews.
15 But they shouted, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!”
“Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked.
“We have no king but Caesar,” the chief priests answered.
16 Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.

The Crucifixion of Jesus

So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. 17 Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha). 18 There they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle.
19 Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: jesus of nazareth, the king of the jews. 20 Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. 21 The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews.”
22 Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.”
23 When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.
24 “Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.”
This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said,
“They divided my clothes among them
    and cast lots for my garment.”[a]
So this is what the soldiers did.
25 Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. 26 When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman,[b] here is your son,” 27 and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.

The Death of Jesus

28 Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” 29 A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. 30 When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

Two-for-two Tuesday...Ah, Mystery

PAD challenge day 15: two-for-two Tues: write a love poem. write an anti-love poem





Worthless when kept
It is laughed,
Groaned and wept
For it we die
And live
None are so rich
That they no longer need it
Or too poor to
Have It to give

Climax of joy
Yet apex of sorrow
Bitter and sweet
Intertwined
It can never be
Stolen or borrowed
Mystery
By God designed

We cannot gather
Or hoard it; its increase
Can only be given
To prove
Its divine fullness
Ah, who can explain
The glorious Mystery
Of Love?

© Janet Martin

Ah, Mystery (Anti-love)

Gentle and kind
Holy, humble Healer
Heavenly Father
Comforter, Friend
Lamb on a cross,
Pardon perfected
Hope and salvation
Love without end

Gentle and kind
Yet scorned and rejected
Holy humble Healer
Yet pierced with a sword
Heavenly Father
Hated without reason
Comforter, Friend
Crucified; our Lord
Lamb on a Cross
Bleeding redemption
Pardon perfected
For hate could not slay
Hope and salvation
Free through the ages
Love without end
…yet we turn away

© Janet Martin





 

Monday, April 14, 2014

Chosen Generation (re-vamped re-post)

 
 
We are not just ‘playing house’ here
As we toil and plant earth’s sod
We are treading mercy-moments
On a stairway up to God

We are not just biding time here
Twixt the rise and set of sun
We will give account to God, dear
For each deed that we done

We are not soul-less flesh shadows
Skimming time’s fugitive glance
Nor are we a fluke of nature
Victimized by circumstance

We are precious blood-bought creatures
Bearing an eternal soul
Jesus gave Himself, an offering
To make broken sinners whole

We are born with holy purpose
Not earth's meaningless off-spring
Like a field of dandelions
We are children of a King

...created in His like-image
Knit together by the touch
Of a kind,heavenly Father
Who loves us so very much

© Janet Martin
 
As Easter week-end approaches are you not over-come with awe at such a love as Jesus has for us?

 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. Gen. 1:27
 
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. 1 Peter 2:9

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. John 3:16-17