Always Half-kissed...

What can we say that has never been said?

Early the morning creeps out of its bed

Easing through acres of high sky-blue mead

Before its slips to the river

Kissing Time’s silver with shivers of blush

Ever it fades into precious ‘what was’

Where none can plunder its Why and Because

Or pluck one plume from its quiver

What can we do that has never been done?

Nothing is new under day’s dauntless sun

Pirate and poet, proprietor one

Led by the law of an hour

Season-stoked spectrum of age-old distress

We stumble over its heaped happiness

Searching for something we cannot access

Save in the grave of a flower

What can we think that has never been thought?

Over and over the hour is taught

By the behavior of earth’s sundry lot

As we persist to discover

Time cuts a trail over trampled bygone

While we insist to repeat right and wrong

Always half-kissed by the words of a song

God prints on petals of clover

© Janet Martin

Soon summer's Saturday silvers shorelines somewhere far way...

Make it a nice sweet slice of almost-yesterday

All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, Nor is the ear filled with hearing. That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done. So there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one might say, "See this, it is new "? Already it has existed for ages...Ecc. 1:8-10

For the Eyes of Wiser Risers Only

So, just in case we’re thinkin’ while we’re snugly sleepin’ in

That in the grand design of time we didn’t miss a thing

We ought to reconsider while we sweetly dream or snore

Beyond the bliss of ignorance God opens up a door

…and for those wiser risers He spreads out a wondrous feast

A decadent arrangement of daybreak upon the east

While dreamers dream and snorers snore and lazy loafers laze

Beyond that pile of blankets God sets waking skies ablaze

© Janet Martin

The only reason I can write this is because I had to get up early to finish some canning or I too may be among those getting up later, yawning, stretching and saying to myself, ‘well, at least I didn’t miss any sky-action this morning’.

Earlier...

Matrix of Majesty

 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands...Ps.19:1

Oh, matrix of yon skies

Oh, heaven-madrigal

No lens or pen descries

The fullness of it all

From dark of darkest deep

In God’s celestial span

While we were all asleep

Your birth to earth began

Then God said, let there be

And from that outer-where

A glimpse of majesty

Embellishes the air

No lens or pen can draw

From man’s wee porch of sod

Dawn's essence of pure awe

…the majesty of God

© Janet Martin

I kept clicking more and more photos trying to capture the 'It' factor, when suddenly it dawned on me no pen or lens can fully descry I AM

(30 min. later...)

 The heavens declare the glory of God,
    and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. 
 Day to day pours out speech,
    and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
    whose voice is not heard. 
 Their voice goes out through all the earth,
    and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun, 
     which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
    and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy. 
 Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
    and its circuit to the end of them,
    and there is nothing hidden from its heat.

Ps. 19:1-6

A Prayer about Prayer

Sometimes we don't know how to pray

So Lord, we give you thanks

As you take what we cannot say

And kindly fill the blanks

Janet~

Some things are so complicated that all we can do is leave it to God to intercede!

Oh, Youth

I sent my daughter the link to this message hoping she will listen to it and take it to heart...

Oh, you of fledgling armament

How easily you dare

To don that naive confidence

That only youth can wear

Oh, you of callow plans and schemes

How fearlessly you leap

Upon a frigate made of dreams

While practiced dreamers sleep

Oh, you of eyes all eager-lit

And boast of words untried

Delighting in your new-born wit

And virgin sense of pride

Oh, you of mountain-moving faith

Of hope boundless and brave

You do not even recognize

This lovely Thing you have

Janet Martin

I told Emily tonight that I spent the day in the garden thinking and praying, just like last fall on the Monday after her wedding.  It's such a nice peaceful, pleasant place to be and so much fruit is ready to be picked!

…now suddenly I think I understand why my mom spent/spends so much time in her garden

Plucking, pulling, picking, pruning…and praying.

The Way of Mothers...

 Maybe it's the way of mothers...

…to leave them over-hugged and kissed

To over-give while they insist

They really, really do not need

All this; but still we cannot heed

Their words untrained

By years and tears

Of the unexplained

As faith fights fears

…for once upon a time now far

We too dashed off with words and jars

While mother stood and watched us go

To learn the things we didn’t know

Existed yet; how swift we meet

The wherefore of love’s bittersweet

...where empty jars and echoes strew

The path as years and tears accrue

And what we thought we knew…aha

Has morphed to what our mothers saw

As they stood in the doorway where

We waved, and didn’t see the air

Bedazzled with a million parts

…the way of mothers and their hearts

© Janet Martin

She insisted that 'she’s sure she really doesn’t need ‘all this’ as I tucked extra groceries and jars of jam, salsa, fruit etc. into her bags…