If We Could See

If we could see the hand that cups

The way we walk, our fears would fade

If we upon our shoulder touched

The Touch of He whose Hand is stayed

If we with naked eye could trace

The Presence of Essence we trust

How holy-wholly we'd embrace

The nail scarred hands that hold our dust

If for one breath, faith would allow

A glimpse of mercy’s Majesty

Then we, without a doubt would bow

Beneath the hand we cannot see

© Janet Martin

 My times are in Your hand; Psalm 31:15

Counsel for Merchants of Moments or Driver of Dreams

If we leap headlong into choice

Without weighing its gain and cost

How doleful we, in hindsight see

Oft all we have is what we lost

Self can be such a jealous god

A boss that’s never satisfied

Thus, it behooves God's tender truths

To bend these necks of stubborn pride

For in life’s quest to gain and gain

Sometime we lose sight of its Whole

How, in the end, we will contend

With He who gathers back the soul

Be careful then and prayerful too

For merchants one and all are we

This wake and sleep a solemn leap

That trades time for eternity

© Janet Martin

 For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

Mark 8:36

 

Better Together...

 Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. 

Gal.6:2

Let’s share and bear together

For living’s gray-gold blends

Are easier to weather

And celebrate, with friends

Forbid any should suffer

Or rejoice all alone

But let love’s beauty buffer

Each other’s grin or groan

We all slip, trip and stumble

And sometimes need a hand

To keep us kindly humble

And help each other stand

© Janet Martin

May Melody...

Sweet, sweet darling days of May

Youth has crowned earth’s ancient heath

Hope abounds above, beneath

Where brown, barrenness gives way

To first, fairest greens, hurray

Grave of winter births its wreath

Soft, soft seraphim of May

Where the air is primed with hymn

Bird and zephyr-cherubim

Praise the Lord with lilting lay

Memories of gray days dim

On earth’s bud-bejeweled tray

Glad, glad golden gates of May

Flinging blue-skied ballrooms wide

Life is like a blushing bride

On her happy wedding day

Where guests fill the countryside

Waiting to catch her bouquet

© Janet Martin

The Love-language of Mothers

( Well, this mother is off to clean up some 'common cradles;-)

The love-language of mothers to others may seem quite plain

Yet, if she tried she would find it so complex to explain

How in numberless tasks poured from the flask of motherhood

She cradles common cares with care and whispers ‘it is good’

...how her love is far more than hug-and-kiss or gifted things

The cost of it her utter self, entangled in heart-strings

How she has learned and ever learns the painfulness of joy

As she with earnest vigil tends the needs of girl and boy

…how her love clings to humble trust, praying that God provides

Through daily grace, wisdom and strength for what each day betides

How, mixed with mundane spills is sacred tilling of soul-sod

How motherhood mirrors a love-language written by God

How, sometimes she will linger touching garments they’ve out-grown

And she will trace her fingers over places they’ve out-flown

How then, with kinder reverence she embraces Today

Her love-language insisting that she learns new words to say

© Janet Martin