Saturday, March 25, 2017

Open Invitation

Any time and any day
In any place
People may pray

Any hope and any care
And any praise
Fits into prayer

Any heartache, any fears
Any thankful words
Or tears

Nothing is too small or great
For our God
To mediate

Any hunger, hurt or need
God, our God
Can intercede

At the altar of belief
Humble hearts may
Find relief

Anyone and anywhere
May call upon God
In prayer

© Janet Martin

Aren't you thankful, so thankful, the way to God's ear is never closed!
On that note, can you pray for my friend Diane, still on a hard cancer journey!
She came through the surgery (for a complex form of endometrial cancer) very well 
but is struggling with some after-effects like bleeding, infection etc. all being controlled but it takes much time, patience and trust!
She values prayer dearly to help keep her looking up!

Psalm 66:16-20
Come and hear, all who fear God,
            And I will tell of what He has done for my soul.
      I cried to Him with my mouth,
            And He was extolled with my tongue.
      If I regard wickedness in my heart,
            The Lord will not hear;
      But certainly God has heard;
            He has given heed to the voice of my prayer.
      Blessed be God,
            Who has not turned away my prayer
            Nor His lovingkindness from me.

Beautiful Life

This beautiful life filled with flowers and strife
And hours that spill into what used to be
Doth startle us oft as it slips silver-soft
From bud into bloom to tomb marked with stark tree

This beautiful life, like a stream running rife
Where both dream and Duty seem never quite done
Teaches us to touch but not cling to or clutch
The sea slipping through us like sparkles of sun

This beautiful life like a supple-slick knife
That cuts to the quick with its ticking and tock
Carves, with dimming day and dawn’s brimming hurray
Mementos in vaults that no key can unlock

This beautiful life, ah, this beautiful life
It bends our bearing with love’s care and pain
But, in its granting we find ourselves planting
A garden to stroll through again and again

© Janet Martin

 How doth your garden grow?
With snow gone(for now:) our thoughts turn toward planting...seeds and memories!
What a quick week;
granting some yummy moments...
Some "look mummy! I can lie on my tummy and hold up my head!" moments...
Some (not caught on camera) two little boys checking out Janet's muddy garden moments
that led to much extra-laundry moments...
Some cutsie-tootsie moments...
Some 'let's tidy' moments...
...and some tidy moments too:)

Happy Saturday to you!

Friday, March 24, 2017

Contemplation of Creation's Culmination

Earth's bare beauty mesmerizes the eye,
before bulging buds break to gild her in green garb...

This place, curtailed by constant tick and tock where winds harass
The trees and shifting seas that shape shorelines of rock and grass
And stirs earth’s ancient dust with lessons old yet new to we
Who shed innocence in the ken of swift mortality
how we are not long for this place of human-race and sod
Until, without doubt we return to its Creator; God

The earnest heed we ought to give while we live, pleads within
It trembles in The Soul and ravages our skiffs of skin
As we, breath-taken by the sheer undoing of time’s ply
Waken to mercy’s newness and the blueness of its sky
Where purpose wields its calling where the falling shadows climb
The hills that wore ages of yore yet spill in flawless prime

War lords its ugly fear in hearts where love and longing war
We board the vessel of new day that sails from heaven’s door
And oft we stare, astonished as our gaze drinks from the spring
Of nature’s changeless ways where change seems the only sure thing
While we bury our dead and shed tears on the dust that soon
Will claim the very hands and feet that labor for its boon

Hunger besieges us and wonder’s spills in silent speech
Seasons go round and round like waves that wash and wash earth’s beach
Where we are more than pulsing ellipses of fragile breath
Born for far more than every living thing that ends in death
Though flesh may fail and what we see may seem to be life’s whole
Mere eye cannot descry the fathom of the shapeless soul

The fool declares the fool’s belief; jeers in the face of God
And fools of like-foolmindedness cheer blindly and applaud
The grave claims wise and fool alike; no one escapes death’s due
Or what remains after life’s holy hope and grace is through
Where, even as we breathe, someone breaks breathing’s sacred seals
To what we oft imagine but what death alone reveals
Progress perplexes pioneers of it with cons and prose
The sun sets pink but what its ink begets nobody knows
Though the pretext of what is next dares to wear cloth of plan
We who have worn and borne it know how Unknown vexes man
For none are privy to the mystery of morrow’s way
But all are always, only, ever subject to Today

Thought’s culmination of creation’s wherefore and its why
Cannot ignore the imminence of Something more than eye
Can encapsulate, though with telescope we try to find
What lies beyond this scope of hope and reaches of the mind
But recognize that eons rise beyond this mortal flit
And realize that Someone Greater orders all of it

© Janet Martin