The Give and Take of Life

The only thing that keeps us from breaking under life's constant giving and taking, is grace.

Sometimes it feels like we take more

Than our fair share of grin-and-bear

My points of view too oft ignore

Your points of view way over there

Life’s second miles would wear us thin

And the lament of longing too

If love were not the law within

That bends our will to see it through

The heart before the hand must learn

The art of humble give and take,

Then we won’t ponder its return

But simply do it for love’s sake

We are all beggars in the mind

The give and take of life, a tool

That teaches us how to be kind

Or else a blind and broken fool

The Golden Rule of Life is thus;

To do to others as we would

That others would do unto us

This law of give and take is good

© Janet Martin

O-o-o-o-h and A-a-a-a-h

From fathoms far beyond the way we understand the what and how

The moon climbs up the flight of day to lay its aura on the snow

And we for lack of words are stirred to wonder at its ageless splay

That draws our o-o-o-h-s and a-a-a-a-h-s because we cannot think what else to say

© Janet Martin

Isn't the moon-rise SO grand on winter-blue dusk?

Never Far Away...

Whoever,

Whenever,

Wherever we are

We are ever called

To pray

Because whoever

Wherever

However we are

God is never far

Away

He stirs the dark to day

He stirs the bud to flow’r

He stirs the heart of hearts to say

Lord, save me by Thy pow’r

So, whoever,

Whenever,

Wherever we are

We are born to pray

The God who stirs the heart,

Hangs stars,

No matter who,

When,

Where we are

Is never far

Away

© Janet Martin

Wishing you a warm and worshipful Sunday.

To all of you on the eastern sea-board, stay safe!

Love and prayers

that we all may have patience and grace 

no matter

what storm we are called to endure.

When the World Wears Winter Dusk...

The land is like a lullaby, where echoes lilt and leap

Its cadaver of days gone by slumbers within its sweep

Yon sky is like a highway where the feet of dreamers tread

While wandering the down reaches of nature’s feather-bed

The rock me, rock me rhythm of time's clock gathers its prey

While Winter’s beneficiary waits white whiles away

When it comes to the woo of dusk there is no hand-me-down

Ah, white of winter’s moonlit night, wouldst thou could weave a gown

For what fabric is finer than white winter’s hinterland?

It shimmers like a skein of satin flung from heaven’s hand

And on the hills that gently spill up to blue lowered bar

The stars like silver buttons bloom on fathoms from afar

Now almost-night succumbs to that which no one can hold back

Above the earth the girth of Orion dazzles velvet black

Dusk's deepening tugs heart-strings, such a soulful serenade

Touches and strums the darkness; one more Nevermore is made

And onlookers soft-caught between the future and the past

Grasp at the gossamer of what remains and what is cast

© Janet Martin

I have heard Time's Preacher thunder

in the still of dusk... 

When Time Will Cease to Be

It's that time of year, tax-season... when we take inventory and prepare our paper-work for the accountant etc.

I'm glad we don't need to go back to God over and over to 'settle our account' with Him! 

But, though the account is settled, there will be a great accounting yet where what was done in secret will be made known...

This live-laugh-love

This have-hold glove

This give-and-take melee

Is the life we

Will account for

When Time will cease to be

© Janet Martin

Inspired by this...