Echo-halls

I'm beginning to understand... when other people would say the week after a trip is bittersweet. 

Life just sort of picks up where we left it...(Lord willing) 

and sometimes one needs to stop and look at the pictures to relive it a bit! 

 (and remind ourselves 'we were there!':)

One of our main highlights of the trip was visiting (at long last) our son-in-law's family and home farm! Absolutely stunning...its backdrop the beautiful blue (and brown:) hues of the Bay of Fundy!

LOVED it!

Because arms cannot hold for long

The gifts that love imparts

Where farewell hugs and tugs are strong

God smiled and gave us hearts

Because He knew how Time would sketch

Frames of masterpiece art

He gave us walls that stretch and stretch

In halls within the heart

Because the wealth of take and give

Soon tunes Bygone’s ramparts

And echoes need a place to live

God smiled and gave us hearts

© Janet Martin

 Good memories! Thank-you.
(I wrote this while the 'so-long' hugs still tugged...)
Jim and I were thoroughly treated and spoiled by our 'east family'!

Life's Thanks Full...and 'Hello again':)

 Whether its in a little church in the valley by the wildwood...

 

...or the Notre-Dame Basilica

 God hears those who worship him in spirit and truth!

(Yet a time is coming and has now come 

when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, 

for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks.

John 4:23)

Life’s fiends of fear would paralyze the fount of Hope within

Where hunger-lords would rule the sighs that vex this cage of skin

Without a charge for something greater than time's push and pull

…to worship Love’s Creator with a heart humbly thanks-full

Life’s strife-anointed battlefields would drive us to despair

As rife the rush of hours wields its weapons made of air

Where change, a constant rival to what once we thought we knew

Makes struggles for survival more than flesh and blood ado

Life’s give and take would wake in us a doleful agony

The bread we break never enough to feed the soulful plea

But Love without exception to a world hate would destroy

Became the soul’s salvation making possible full joy

Life’s everlasting fortitude as generations pass

Fills hearts with holy gratitude where man’s days are as grass

But worth the hurt where want and need would be too much to bear

Without the Certainty of He who leads from here to There

© Janet Martin

We had a wonder-full, thanks-full trip!

 Often in the eastern province's scenic sweeps 

a church-spire would draw the eye

as it reached toward the sky!

This church's bells tolled through the valley one evening while we stopped 

to admire the view along the St. Lawrence River!

 

On This Note...

On this note, due to a major shake-up to what has been a somewhat regular routine 

for quite some time, I will be away for a while

but hope to be back after a vacation and then adapting to a new

childcare routine starting at 7:00 a.m.

Hope to see you sometime in October!

On a note of orchards groaning with the glut of grace and toil

Where the mantle of new morning gleams like frosting over spoil

Where Hope to spring’s furrow planted is poured out in harvest-hymns

On a note twixt Past and Promise, where Today spreads fledgling wings

On a note of Change pursuing what is pressed against our skin

Where the Hour keeps undoing and refilling nests within

And the Things we thought quite common startle us with Letting Go

On a note where skylines open to what Time waits to bestow

On a note of flower-tatters scattered where sweet summer wanes

On a coat of earthy matters fixed to heaven’s holy trains

On a road where twist and turn can take us by sacred surprise

On a note where Having Held melds hello’s handshake to good-byes

…on a note of knowing little of what waits to spill its store

Where each day is like a launching pad hinged to for-nevermore

Frilled with gray and gold appointment like footprints splashed-dashed on sand

Where each note of leaping forward leads to farewell’s upper hand

…on a note of raw rebellion tamed by traits of Father Time

Where the green of leaf turns golden like medallions on a vine

And the sheen of dreams turns dusky where the rise and set of sun

Tunes the notes of moment-music into soulful said-and-done

On a note of wish and wonder so profound it steals our breath

Where the heart can skip a beat so full of life so close to death

...where the rhythms we relinquish have prepared us unaware

For the notes that wait to wash across the stars and bars of prayer

…on a note of apprehension and fresh thoroughfares of trust

Where the Unknown is an ocean surging through faith’s speck of dust

Where we cannot nurse the notions that turn fear into a noose

But proceed in part with caution and in part with heart foot-loose

On a note of simple Being with a Mary-like Reply

Of ‘Lord, Be it unto us as you have said’,  we try to fly

And be ever humbly thankful for the chance to dance and sing

On a note, often off-key but always meant to worship Him

© Janet Martin

 "I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered.

 "May your word to me be fulfilled."

Luke 1:38

September Dosey Doe

  (do you sense a flutist and fiddler in the fringes;-)?

 September Dawn...

Now earlier dusk dons its yawns of shadow promenade

Above the sparser, hard-to-find-‘em cricket serenade

Now mellower the meadow still insists on our stares

Where yellower the golden rod ignites its feather-flares

Now sentimental-er we stir the dust on garden floors

Where summer’s rush of hours blurs on rainbow-shimmered shores

Now mistier the morning breaks, now dewier her dress

Where holier love’s hunger wakes a humbler happiness

Now gossamer of web-design no mortal can achieve

Showcases intricacies that eight-legged artists weave

Now moodier the summer-sleepy zephyr tousles trees

And tickles beaming flowers into dreamy memories

Now nature’s seamstress starts to stretch the threads of milk-weed pods

And everything she touches turns to gold, russet and bronze

Now corn-fields tease our nostrils, bees are busiest of all

Wild grasses wave their tassels like banners heralding fall

Now hints of autumn's advent scatter leaf-shaped souvenirs

And tints of twilight-tea contentment sweetens farewell’s tears  

Now more than ever we are bent on ‘bringing in the sheaves’

Where more than ever we are meant to treasure days like these

Where flowers spill their final frills in a fine fashion-show

Where sweet September senses calls for fall’s first dosey-doe

© Janet Martin

September Dusk...

Do We Remember?

 Love must be sincere. 

Detest what is evil; cling to what is good.

 Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. 

Outdo yourselves in honoring one another. 

Rom.12:9-10

9/11...do you remember where you were?

I was feeding Victoria who was 1/2 a year old 

when the images started to appear, interrupting every programme on TV! 

First I thought it was a glitch and changed channels and soon realized 

Oh NO! This is for real!

We remember, not to inspire hate, but love...

Do we remember to love one another

Do we remember to pray?

Do we remember to thank Mercy's Author

Of Time, for another day?

Do we remember that grace has no borders

Creatures of need, one and all

Do we remember our Ultimate order

That love is mankind's Greatest Call

Do we remember to not take for granted

What may be tomorrow's loss

Do we remember blood-tears that were planted

Years ago, at the foot of a Cross?

Do we remember fear, tasting like cotton

...feeling that kinship of pain

Do we remember or have we forgotten

And returned to our old ways again?

Janet Martin~

Yes, we remember today!

Will we still remember tomorrow

and the day after...?!

Tribute to the fallen...Ships of Heaven Blackhawk