But Then, From Common Pen...

Oh, bitty ink we shape to word

Oh, type-print tears and smiles

You shape the hugs where thought is stirred

To reach across the miles

You light the wick that sparks the dream

You transport meager thought

To places we have never been

By meandering jot

You paint the bank beside the brook

In winter-gilded sage

Or fling a flower-furnished nook

Upon a barren page

You make us brave, foolish or wise

Oh, word, what will you be?

As ink-drops rise to mammoth-size

For all the world to see

…for once you were a hidden slur

But then, from common pen

You shaped, for good or ill, the curve

That shapes the thoughts of men

Then, what momentous might you wield

For who knows where you go?

Or who will be touched by the yield

Where word-formed whispers flow?

I tremble as the hand is stirred

Who can its reach portend?

As touch shapes hidden thought to word

Oh, who can know its end?

Lord, hold the hand that holds the pen

And let our beacon shine

Your Word within our words; amen

And all the glory thine

© Janet Martin

New Today

 For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Rom.1:20

Time’s light, not long before

Was deftly drawn away

Now from the Gate of Mercy pours

The dawn of new Today

In spite of creature ways

Love does not still time’s sands

But tips the scales of holy grace

To Newness in our hands

We stand in awe, agape

This God of gracious love

From deepest, darkest dark can shape

Morning from midnight’s trove

And where the air was black

As hearts that lost their way

God does not scoff nor turn His back

But grants a New Today

Our days are in God’s hands

All things on Him rely

As hope entrust time’s ether sands

To He who parts the sky

© Janet Martin

To Ivory Cages

Creative Bloomings is asking for our Holiday Memories poems today... this is not one memory but all of them...

You are packaged, not in paper

Tied but not with beaming bow

Heart-strings bind with sacred languor

What is but a memory now

You are held but not in fingers

Love preserves life’s dearest part

Where its memory-kisses linger

Deep within, against the heart

Ah, the mind can be a palace

Beggars can be rich as kings

As thought fills its bulging pockets

With the memories love brings

Never mind time’s turning pages

Every day comes but to fade

Through our skin to ivory cages

Filled with memories we’ve made

© Janet Martin

Lord, Sometimes I...

Lord, sometimes reckless, I push you aside

And replace You with my own foolish pride

And sometimes I choose hopeless fear and doubt

Though all around the earth Your wonder shouts

Lord, sometimes I am glib and wide-eye blind

With wordy exposition dull of mind

And sometimes I’m forgetful of Your ways

While all around me nature sings your praise

Lord, pitiful and full-amazed I gasp

And strain to picture hell’s keys in your clasp

Yet stooping you would wash a servant’s feet

…the train of your robe pouring to the street

Lord, sometime I try to envision You

Reaching to me with hands that nails pierced through

My thought and eyes glimpse shadows of Your frame

While all around creation shouts Your name

© Janet Martin

This morning's worship service was filled with people sharing a favorite verse or two about Jesus; over and over, as precious words of praise and promise were read, I realized that I was trying to visualize Him but grasped at vague imaginations of Perfection! Someday, we face to face will see, He who fills each day with grace and wonder.

...as day dipped to dusk the train of his glory filled the sky!!

...for Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever, 

Amen. Matt 6:13

Once a Miracle...

Armed with what we have come to know

And greater ignorance

Darling, we hold close then let go

Learning love’s sweet, slow-dance

Dare we to wield scalpel of pen

And dare we let it spell

From private wound of heart-blood yen

Those words we cannot tell?

Will Want the ache of longing break

Through begging bars of skin

Hungry enough to undertake

More than dances within?

Darling, this clasping, rasping flight

Vexes our here-to-there

While time’s voracious appetite

Spills triumph and despair

Even December lips are soft

With promises of new

Where the old year spirals aloft

Before bidding adieu

Forgetfulness and ignorance

Are brave within a pen

Thus, darling we will take the chance

And dare to dance again…

Close your eyes love, sight distracts us

Words are wonderful

Whispered in the touch of what was

Once a miracle

© Janet Martin

Ah, those bittersweet slow-dances

Of looking back to gaze upon

Life’s ‘once upon a miracle’s

That I should have lived to love and be loved at all

...is a miracle!