Of Courage, College and Carrying On...

We speak to them of courage and we hope within its speech

We find the very thing that we are striving thus to teach

Life’s laughter and lament, love’s learning-curves amalgamate

Within the eye; hello-good-bye; time never bars its gate

As daughters become us and we stare long at our skin

And wonder who we are; the image not the girl within

Where dying ways that life inflicts upon our gaze reflects

The nature of all nature and the climax of all flesh

Our lips, once filled with answers suddenly are dumb and numb

While merry moment-dancers seem to disregard the sum

Of all that they become as we peruse their aftermath

Where tragedy and triumph meld in glimmers on dusk’s path

Still, onward, ever onward, we commence again, again

The learning is not over until God declares, Amen

And so we speak of courage and we hope within its speech

To find the very thing that we are striving thus to teach

© Janet Martin

Our pastor, Dale Ward, encouraged students to take this verse with them as they return to school...

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

From Tennyson's Tears, Idle Tears...

 Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather in the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more...

Of Rivers that Rush Through the Trees

 I don't think my kids heard 'the river rushing through the trees' but I did...still it was a good, corny 'last day' before we help Melissa move tomorrow.

On some days we sip slow and deep

From rivers that run through the air

Sensing this thing we cannot keep

Rushes too fast from here to there

And on those days a reverent awe

Battles with greed of holding on

Because not long ago we saw

How swift a year is here and gone

But even in the clinging fast

We know tis foolish to resist

This filament that weaves the past

In tear and laughter mingled-mist

And so we sip with senses keened

To rivers rushing through the trees

Of moments where we live, love, learn

Before they turn to memories

© Janet Martin

Of We Who Yet Remain...

 

Approx. 15 min. after I took these photos it was pouring rain! now the sun has returned...

He who forms the mountains, who creates the wind, and who reveals his thoughts to mankind, who turns dawn to darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth-- the LORD God Almighty is his name. Amos 4:13

From heaven’s atrium of bluest blues

Kindly the touch of God from darkness woos

Daylight, the dew-fed night dies on the air

And we who yet remain are caught up where

The orbit of time’s trek from east to west

Returns us to its century-steeped test

And who of us can prophecy or tell

What waits to spill from gates celestial?

Or who can boast to see beyond the veil

Of a mere moment what Time will exhale?

But this we know, while gasps to eons move

These three abide of faith and hope and love

What good is gained to let our thought-feet stray

Where fear and guilt steal faith and hope away?

Ah love, before death’s white dust stills our cry

And fills this cup where now we strain and sigh

Help us to know you better, how your thirst

Is quenched in cups of water given first

To others thirstier; how faith, hope, love

Fitted together are not often proved

Upon a pedestal where men applaud

But on our faces before Holy God

And on our knees where faith and hope are hard

And  love is not a word but hands help-scarred

The morning blushes with hope’s hallowed wraith

The traffic rushes on highways of faith

Toward Unknowns; for what but faith can lend

To us the courage to do more than just pretend

As we encounter from Love’s nail-scarred hands

New tests to prove where our allegiance stands

Lest our volley of verbal acclaim

When tried would put our pious prose to shame

…from Heaven’s atrium of bluest blues

Kindly the touch of God from darkness woos

Daylight; its appetite ignites the air

And we who yet remain go forth with prayer

© Janet Martin  

  And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. 1 Cor. 13:13

Oh, Thou Most Holy God

Oh, Thou who madest all

And with Word didst create

There is no white-washed wall

Where Thy gaze penetrates

Oh, Thou who seekest all

To bring into Thy fold

With patient, pleading call

Beckoning young and old

Oh, Thou who gavest all

Upon a cruel tree

To save us from The Fall

For all eternity

Oh, Thou who lovest all

Beyond what we can see

Postponing that Last Call

So all might come to Thee

Oh, Thou most Holy God

Awesome and powerful

We cannot grasp with thought

The wonder of it all

© Janet Martin

 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. John 1:1

The Brogue of August

The brogue of August is subtle, soft-slurred

Locust, cicada and cricket-song-blurred

Crooning cantata of blue-bronze finesse

Teases the breezes and willow-gold tress

Oh, let us wander to far yonder slope

Savor the flavor of sweet sun-mulled hope

The smile of August is dust and dew-drenched

Hazy and lazy with thirst keen, unquenched

Daydreamer’s darling, we pause where the rose

Scatters its tatters in russet repose

Oh, let us linger longer ere its street

Turns to a river of red ‘neath our feet

The arms of August hold us like a belle

Poised on the brink of reluctant farewell

Wait, oh my darling, do not leave us yet

Ah, none can rearrange Time’s minuet

Silver-sedge-subtle and sleepy-soft tent

You smile as sun-flower hedges are bent

The feet of August wander 'cross a quilt

Where all the patches of summer are spilt

Chartreuse and cinnamon, peaches and cream

Dill and persimmon, cornflower-fringed stream

Come, let us dance, lest perchance August slips

Over Time's edge like a sigh on our lips

     

 

© Janet Martin