Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Jes' Askin'





Ah, Master of the morning skies
Today I ask of You
To help me humbly recognize
What you would have me do

Ah Painter of my purposed path
Temper my attitude
Not what I want but what You ask
Thus teach me gratitude

Ah anchor in life’s high and low
Hold me to You, I pray
So as I live and laugh and love
I will not drift away

Ah, Master of the morning skies,
Ah Painter of my path
Ah anchor in life's lows and highs
Keep me today, I ask

© Janet Martin


A Call to Persevere...Jude 17-24

But, dear friends, remember what the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ foretold.  They said to you, “In the last times there will be scoffers who will follow their own ungodly desires.” These are the people who divide you, who follow mere natural instincts and do not have the Spirit.
 But you, dear friends, by building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.
 Be merciful to those who doubt;  save others by snatching them from the fire; to others show mercy, mixed with fear—hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.

To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—To the only God , our Savior through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and authority,before all time and now and forever,

Amen 

To each who of you who pass this way
I pray for you a blessed day.



Monday, December 2, 2013

December





Country brook meanders; metallic cobalt streamer
Across meadow bereft of bracken, clover-bloom and dreamer
Blue-eyed autumn tarried with its pockets full of laughter
But Time with ease has emptied them into the ever-after

The gown of emerald velvet is trampled, tattered, forlorn
The hill wears quilted patchwork trimmed with frayed, forgotten corn
And where the breezes rolled, cajoled in summer’s dappled surf
The elements are somber as they tromp earth’s frozen turf

We shift from fall-fond passion, cinnabar and ginger wild  
For words like short-bread, holly, ring those bells and Christmas-child
And where the bronze leaf drifted garnishing each windowsill
It seems someone has sifted silver-song on ridge and rill

Still, country brook meanders in the color of the cloud
Before a stricken grandeur stills its shimmer in a shroud
And where the summer-shadow lingered long into the dusk
The afternoon is pushed and garnered by winds hurried, brusque

December rolls a carpet of farewell out to the brink
Of daylight gently dying on a skyline salmon-pink
December, in its debut is an argent lullaby
And even in its hello we can almost hear good-bye

© Janet Martin


Of Servants, Surrender and Sovereign God




We cannot force the hand
That holds Life’s sacred quill
Nor can we rush to understand
The mystery of His will

We see, but not the whole
Simply as grace imparts
We are not in control
Lord, give us servant-hearts

For we are broken, frail
Remind us, You are wise
Your love measures and tips the grail
Of blessing in disguise

Sometimes You part the cloud
Sometimes You part the sea
But always You pour out your love
Fully and faithfully

We cannot usurp You
You are God, Sublime
And you will make your purpose known
At the appointed Time

© Janet Martin


Let the wicked forsake his way And the unrighteous man his thoughts; And let him return to the LORD, And He will have compassion on him, And to our God, For He will abundantly pardon. "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," declares the LORD. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts.…Isa. 55:7-9

Who Is This One?




Who is this One that lies
Within a cattle stall
Beneath the angel-cloven skies?
He looks so frail and small
Why, this is Jesus Christ
The King of Kings who loves us all

Who is this One asleep
Not in a cradle kind
But where the sheep and oxen feed
His bed, hay and straw-lined 
Why, this is Jesus Christ
The One Redeemer for mankind

Who is this One wee babe
That shepherds first adored?
Because they did not doubt
But took the angels at their word
Why this is Jesus Christ
Only Savior, Only Lord 
 
A Star shines o’er His bed
Who is this precious One
Whose Mother bowed her head
And said ‘Thy will be done’? 
Why this is Jesus Christ
God the Father’s only Son

Pray tell, who is this One
Of which the angels spoke
As glory of the Lord
Shone over midnight’s slope
Why this is Jesus Christ
Our only Living Hope

©Janet Martin

 She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins." Matt. 1:21

Of Madrigal and Majesty





It is never dull or old
These colors spilling from a brush
Painting upon Time's ether fold
of Daylight dimming to a hush
And there between today and night
We stand amazed and oh so small
Beneath our faith touching on sight
As we behold Dusk’s Madrigal

© Janet Martin

Saturday was busy, but oh, when I saw the sky dimming over a day that went by much too quickly I simply needed to stop, look up and listen...

 Show us Your lovingkindness, O LORD, And grant us Your salvation. I will hear what God the LORD will say; For He will speak peace to His people, to His godly ones; But let them not turn back to folly. Surely His salvation is near to those who fear Him, That glory may dwell in our land.…Ps. 85:7-9

Winter Vesper

Final November PAD challenge

For today’s prompt, write a disappearing poem. Simple as that.





Chicory, Queen Ann’s lace, goldenrod
Slumber in garden’s beneath winter’s sod
Fence-row and ditches are gilded with ghosts
Reeds, rigid remnants of summer’s grand hosts

Beneath a blanket of winter’s foray
Spring-summer-autumn have rendered their lay
Over a ghost-town of fair, florid field
Tumbles an ocean of echoing yield

Sparkle of laughter fills flicker of flake
Sea-song canticle sweeps dusk’s frozen lake
Where day dips early beneath the skyline
Vesper of yesterday fingers stripped vine

The color-wheel of season-reel is white
Beneath an eon of silver starlight
Orange-gold flicker of candle and hearth
Warms our winter-scape like a post-card

Chicory, Queen Ann’s lace, goldenrod
Have disappeared to a cradle of sod
Blow, winter wonder for each breath you take
Sings to a garden that soon will awake

© Janet Martin







Softly, Swiftly, Soon-ly





Oh, whisper of the wind
Oh, silver of a sigh
Oh, quiver of a moment
Softly you fill the sky

Oh, tempest of a tear
Oh, divine doggerel
Swiftly you fill another year
With echoing farewell

Oh, sparkle of the sun
Oh, banter of the breeze
Soon-ly you fill the heart of hearts
With precious memories

Oh, flicker of a life
Oh, tiptoe to a Door
Softly, swiftly and soon-ly
You will fill for-never-more

© Janet Martin

Conversation with a Thought...or not




You are a straggler so fond of the night
Ever a drifter of mist and moonlight
Chancellor, convict, I know not quite

You whisper and thus I move foot or hand
Villain or victor beneath your command
I am a warrior and battlefield, friend

If you are friend why must you try me so?
You are accuser, tormentor and foe
Testing my yeses and vexing my no’s

I am the one you can never deceive
Tester of truth and forerunner to deeds
Why do you charge me for what you believe?

Life’s fundamental begins with belief
Intangible yet of everything, chief
Anger and comfort align in your sheaf

Ah, how you soothe with the polish of word
Perhaps my sheaf harbors elixir and sword
You choose your weapon as you choose your lord

Nay, though I choose the one Lord I cannot
Keep demons and darkness from vexing my thought
Countless the battles and beasts we have fought

Ay, we are allies at odds from the start
Juxtaposed jury twixt mind and heart
You love me, despise me, we never can part

Where do you come from, inside of my head?
You’re here when I wake up, when I go to bed
Spinning you whispers in an eternal thread

I am the voice of a moment far-flown
I am your summer after it is gone
And I am your ‘go to’ when you are alone

Then you and I must go carefully, crawl
Seems when we race we always hit a wall
Sometimes I wonder if you notice at all

I simply go where you lead yet I find
That you always follow a half-breath behind
Pushing and pulling we go, wide-eyed, blind

I cannot outthink you, thought, like the air
You and I are an inseparable pair
I think I’ll put you to sleep with a prayer
Goodnight,

Goodnight,
Tomorrow I think we’ll do this and that
I wonder what I’ll buy for picky Aunt Pat
Perhaps a cake or a new winter hat
Or a cat
Nah, she wouldn’t like that…
She hates vacuuming cat hair off the mat
Oh, I just remembered the gas bill is due
And I really should pay the others bills too,
Oh dear, I forgot to call Sue
I think I’ll paint the bathroom blue,
I need to

QUIET! I’m trying to sleep…

Okay, I’ll try,
I’ll be a nice summer sky
With a gull drifting
Way up high
Over the ripple of turquoise lullaby
Sweeping the sand all warm with July…

I give up! I’ll just go with this nice warm July thing…


© Janet Martin