Futility's Fete

Cool! said the little guy I babysit, gazing longingly at the rubble-heap that a few days ago was a tree...

(I did not share his sentiment;-)

... but it is futile to stand and long for what no longer is~

Futile to gaze at a glazed skyline where

Days once-upon-us are no longer there

Futile to hunger for crumbs blown away

God spreads time’s table with a feast called Today

Futile to try to pry Past's soldered door

No one can gather spent waves from the shore

Darling, the future will soon fill farewell

Futile to linger where Yesterday fell

© Janet Martin

Strumming the Harpstrings of Heaven from Earth...

Slowly the night dies and dissolves from sight

Holy, the heavens reply with daylight

Lowly, we shoulder the tools for the fight

Knowing we know not what waits to unfold

Darling, the way to the grave is a thorn

Sparkling with rose from the bud of the morn

Carving from naught that for which we are born

Future to present to Past’s heart-shaped mold

Gently the dark takes its leave star by star

Deftly the day breaks on earth’s eastward bar

Grant us, Lord; grant us the will for its war

Subtle, the battles of heart, soul and mind

Gently the fingers of time strum the spheres

Deftly our inhale, exhale becomes years

Grant us, Lord grant us the strength for its tears

Strewed in the wake of daybreaks left behind

Once more the door to faith’s freeway flings wide

Over the indigo-kissed countryside

Over the clover and nettle-toned tide

Wafts the extension of grace-granted scrim

Softly the loft of our oft-dreamy stares

Offers new backdrops to old-fashioned prayers

Grafting their courtship to daily affairs

Where moments meter in stairs back to Him

© Janet Martin

Hope Incarnate Because...

We could not hope for better days

Or marvel at spring’s green-spun ways

Or sing in spite of sorrow’s tear

Or bear life’s care with heart of cheer

Or know beyond that which we see

Or love beyond mortality

Or forgive without grudge or strife

Or believe in more than this life

Or be set free from fear, guilt, dread

If Jesus had not risen from the dead

© Janet Martin

And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.

1 Cor. 15:14

But now Christ has been raised from the dead...

1 Cor. 15:20 

Manifestation of Thought

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.
Col.3:2

Thought begets deed

Deed begets fruit

Fruit begets seed

Seed begets root

© Janet Martin

Your feet and your hands
will travel
Where your mind has already been.
(from the above message)

Ways of Days

Trees shed glass leaves and wait for green of spring.

The ways of moments toss

Their fortunes to the air

Futility mourns for the loss

Of days no longer there

The bitter and the sweet

Compete then coalesce

The silent sorrow of defeat

Mingles with happiness

There is no going back

To retrace Bygone’s path

We search for what we love or lack

Here, in its aftermath

…as ways of moments spill

Fresh opportunity

Into the air where want and will

Turn it to memory

© Janet Martin

Today's moments plan to include the laying to rest of hubby's Aunt Verna. 

The Lord has taken her out of her suffering at last!

 

We are not living in the Day of Judgement

We are living in the days of grace.

Lord, pray that we repent, recieve

Thy gift before it is too late!

For The Sake of Thorn and Rose, Poetry and Prose...

 

Why and How We Are Able...

Could we, without a God of grace

Be brave enough to face the foe

Or bear to drink life’s cup of woe

Or surrender when God says ‘no’?

Could we without a God of hope

Dare to embark on a new day

Where none but He can see the way

And we could not know what to pray?

 

Could we, without a God of love

Suffer life’s sorrows or its joy?

Or teach the tender girl or boy?

Or trust in what none can destroy?

Could we without a God of life

Begin to live or breathe at all?

How would we rise after we fall?

Or time be more than death’s dread pall?

Could we know grace, hope, love below

Without this One true God? No, no!

© Janet Martin