The Reason I Pray

Yesterday I wrote the Reasons I Write Poetry.

On a far more sacred note today I write a few of the reasons I pray!

I pray to obey Love's command and appeal

Even when words fail me He knows how I feel

I ask God for trust where Unknown veils The Way

I praise Him for mercies unveiling new day

I plead for His Presence to guide, keep and such

For loved ones too far from my fingers to touch

His hand on their shoulder to protect and cheer

His voice in their choices, His Hope in their fear

His joy in their sorrow, His Light in the dark

His strength in their weakness, His word in their heart

I pray and in this way touch the Hand of He

Who orders the Heavens and curbs the wild sea

Who fashions the flower and favours the field

With sunshine and shower for bountiful yield

I pray so that I may not forget His grace

How He gave His Son to redeem human race

Vile curse of sin broken, Death robbed of its goal

In Eternal life for the undying soul

I pray for those blinded by unbelief, hate

…that they will find Truth before it is too late

That they will repent, confess Him and receive

Blood-bought inheritance for all who believe

I appeal to him for forgiveness of sin

Lest an evil shoot starts to take root within

I thank Him for His Word that will never fail

For His perfect love to direct and prevail

I thank Him and thank Him and thank Him again

For Hope springs eternal in spite of life’s pain

For His Pardon suffered and sealed, once for all

Still, I pray for conviction where sin would befall

I pray for believers to fight the good fight

To lean on the One whose way is always right

His thoughts so much higher than man’s want and woe

His goodness and Mercy wherever we go

I thank Him for peace within, while still without

The world suffers, writhing in hate, fear and doubt

I thank Him that no mortal power or threat

Can thwart or usurp I AM’s Immortal ‘Yet’

When every knee will bow, each tongue confess

Jesus; His Lordship and His Righteousness

I thank Him that his joy is our strength and shield

That in His right timing all will be revealed

That in the meantime, we, humble human race

May boldly approach Majesty’s throne of grace

Hallelujah,

Amen

© Janet Martin

The Reason I Write Poetry

a glimpse of this poem's persuasion...

as I gazed out where the sun and wind had whipped the yard
into blue and white still-life masterpiece the delight was more than mere body could contain!

 Wood-pecker patiently waiting his turn...

We've enjoyed a non-stop feather-flurry at the feeders today!

above and below, finches, junco, chick-a-dee

 

above, nuthatch, below, mourning dove

above, lunch-rainbow, below, winter-picnic

for love of white canvas soft-feathered with blue

for sparkle of laughter, for friendship of you

for joy of day breaking and waking within

the love a lifetime of ways to begin

for gladness and sadness captured tenderly

this is the reason I write poetry

for love of a flower, a bower, a bird

for Beauty too rare to be wrested by word

for fancy and fact and matters in between

for nature's kaleidoscopic bronze-gold-green

for all that has been and all that waits to be

for right here, right now, I write poetry

for love of the picture that hides in a pen

for trying to find it again and again

for ballads still silent in ink-fettered bars

for landscapes a-dazzle with diamonds and stars

for moments too grand to let lapse back to sea

this is the reason I write poetry

to honor the shadow that climbs twilight's hill

to dally in meadows to feel freedom's thrill

to spread out a picnic in spite of the snow

beside home-sweet fires beneath a lamp's glow

to wrangle with whispers and then set them free

this is the reason I write poetry

to rhumba, to tango, slow-dance, waltz, foxtrot 

to fly to the moon on a pontoon of thought

to touch you though miles make you seem out of reach

to wander in winter a warm wave-washed beach

to treasure the pleasure of fond memory

 this is the reason I write poetry 

faint semblance of summer though stiff north gales blow

dandelion constellation-studded snow

half-shut-eye half-havens of dusk's dewy mist

dumb-struck elation of creation frost-kissed

reveling in endless possibility

this is the reason I write poetry

Janet Martin

Happy January 25th!
a month past Christmas!

The Hope of Generations Still To Come...

"They knew he was at his happiest when he talked about money" said someone I spoke to last week-end of a man who had passed on before either of us were born.

(this comment sort of jolted me into wondering what I will be remembered for as 'my happiest')

The above comment and this post by Cyndy

and this headline all culminated to inspire this morning's poem!

No matter who was or what will be God IS!

May we keep handing down the faith of our fathers,

the only Living Hope for days to come!

Oh, plus, I wanted to write about picnics on this wild blustery morning...

hope of simple joys to come!

The day will come where nothing tells of places that we filled

Or faces that we kissed or hands we held; our whispers stilled

The earth and its fullness thereof, others will taste and touch

In gardens, picnics in the park, in supper soup and such

As they, quite unaware that you and I loved these things too

Will laugh and fret and fuss and do the things that people do

…and it may seem as if we never talked or walked or felt

Our dreams like sums of dust or snowflake-stars that fall then melt

And, though the ebb and flow of dawn to dusk still sweeps the earth

And though the tide of seasons rolls and tolls with death and birth

And though we might believe that 'we who were' are long forgot

A bit of us lives on through what we learned then in turn, taught

The hope of generations still to come depends on us

To tell them there is more to life than its brief fret and fuss

To never leave unspoken the Greatest Story of love

Instilling sacred purpose in life’s common push and shove

Where pray, the best of us remains in strains of purest chime

God’s Truth, fool-proof, to offer hope until the end of Time

© Janet Martin

1 Peter 1:3-9

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! 

By His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope 

through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,

and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, 

reserved in heaven for you,who through faith 

are protected by God’s power for the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.

In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief 

in various trials, so that the authenticity of your faith—more precious than gold, 

which perishes even though refined by fire—

may result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and though you do not see Him now, 

 you believe in Him and rejoice with an inexpressible and glorious joy,

now that you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 

Of Daily Grind and Chance It Grants

This poem was written as a Motivational speech to Self;

as I pondered/prayed for this day the Lord has made to rejoice and be glad in it!

(yes, though it is sky-wide gray, The Unknown juxtaposed with work-a-day-worn-routine

and very sweet youngsters who don't mind a bit to test patience and wills as well 😉)

 Winter days are perfect for extra kitchen 'play-time'

Life’s daily grind of ties that bind the workman to the plow

Is so designed for us to find its happiness somehow

There is no pie up in the sky, only the push and tug

Of heave-heave-ho, of hold-let go, of slip-trip, kiss and hug

Ah, days are bold, soft they unfold before our very eyes

The commonness of live-laugh-love can take us by surprise

Where hope and prayer, joy and despair, delights and vexes we

Who touch our feet upon a street hinged to eternity

Purpose and plan twixt God and man can be a wrestling match

Reason, though kind is often blind to Mercy’s tender catch

While seasons surge then mutely merge with moments once we had

Each morning grants a whole new chance to rejoice and be glad

Where Past expands as hearts and hands sample the sands of time

As live and learn and give and yearn compose the stairs we climb

Where bless and curse, for better-worse its tests and quests unwind

Where thankfulness finds happiness within life’s daily grind

© Janet Martin

(no pie in the sky but a pizza-pie on the table is sure to please:)

 

Word Pictures For Something Hard to Find Words For...

Like a hen clucks to her brood then tucks them ‘neath her downy wing

Like a wisp of wind can woo, or like the world remembers spring

Like the waves can crash, recoil then roil into a rivulet

Tuning brooks that wend through dells and sparkle in starred pirouette

Like wonder that wakens worship in that heart-shaped church within

Like plush rush of dark-brushed rain song or light lilt of violin

Like a sunset, like a handshake, like a string quartet, new day

Like a big yellow umbrella when the afternoon is gray

Like a poufy feather-pillow, like a well-worn winter coat

Like an ocean full of billow yet, the schooner stays afloat

Like a rainbow after thunder filled the heavens for awhile

Like a school-boy’s growling hunger, like a prayer and like a smile

Like a rock, the keeps its balance while change charges left and right

Like a candle in the window in the middle of the night

Like the fervor of a river when it flood-waters run wild

So my precious Liebling, is the love of mother for her child

© Janet Martin