Help My Unbelief

 

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Regret,

Fear,

Condemnation,

Doubt

Cleanse me Lord,

Within,

Without

Gird my faith

In Love's release

Grace,

Hope,

Redemption

And

Peace

© Janet Martin 

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Whether we practice Lent or not as we draw near to Easter it surely probes a deeper soul-searching of who and what we believe!

Jesus said to him, “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.”

Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”
Mark 9: 23-25 

Mystery...

What do you hold in your mold, little day?

Far on the east you release your first sigh

Touching with gold the low fringe of the sky

Greeting the morning where night slips away

What will you spill to the rill, minute-hand?

Meted in moments of tick-tocking stealth

Flicker of fortune and whisper of wealth

Fought for in trenches beneath love’s command

What will you seal on your reel, little hour?

Ere you surrender your silk to the air

What will we hear on June night-fathoms where

Echoes embellish the breeze in the bower

What will we chase with your grace, tender Time?

Jingle of pocket or treasures of trust?

Soon you return to slumber in the dust

What will you tell ere the evening bell chimes?

© Janet Martin

...as I was about to post this our hydro went out again! What other surprises await this day?...No man knows!

A Beautiful Feeling

  

I can’t explain it

Beautiful feeling

Reeling from somewhere

That I cannot tell

Laughter and sorrow

And bittersweet

Stealing

Over the rampart of

Pulsing farewell

Hope and fulfillment

and longing unfathomed

streaming in

moment-drops

from here to there

draining an ocean

without sound or motion

filling the silence

with echo-drenched air

where uncurled fingers

touch traces that linger

only in thought

as the years disappear

and I can’t explain it

the beautiful feeling

of having and holding

wrapped up

in a

tear

© Janet Martin

...just got a crazy, beautiful feeling as I listened to this song... but cannot quite capture it in verse; this is sorta what I could shape it into...sort of the same feeling I had when hubby teased Emily (our daughter) yesterday at church and said, 'I remember you. You used to live at our place...'

Morning Thoughts

 Yesterday's Sunday School lesson was on the tears of Jesus as He beheld Jerusalem and wept, If Thou hadst known...That account touches me immensely every time as I realize we still don't really get it; of how much He loves us 'as a Father pitieth his children'... I choked up as I read this story to the class and this highly amused them all as they tossed Kleenexes to Teacher;)
Don't you think He still weeps sometimes longing to gather us to him like a mother hen gathers her brood...?

Help us trust You, Lord and then

Not to seek applause of men

But to strive fervently to prove

That you are the God we love

Yes, you are the God we love

Distraction of sundry sort

Plagues perception to distort

Comforts croon and wanting wails

Love abides and never fails

Love abides and never fails

Pleasure is a fickle friend

Piety a hopeless fiend

But God, your love transcends our greed

Mercy meets us in our need

Mercy meets us in our need

Diligence, humility

Honor, let these ever be

The obedience we seek

For God, you help us when we’re weak

Yes, God helps us when we’re weak

Then, as morning stirs our sleep

Chasing shadows from the deep

Help us Lord, to bear in mind

Soon we leave this world behind

Ah, soon we leave this world behind

© Janet Martin

I wrote this earlier this morning but power outages and internet disruptions will make it a 'noon thoughts' poem

Frames of Devotion

 In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. John 1:4-5

Soft, soft rose blush gilds paling hush

Of morning gently breaking

Grace breathes its prayer upon the air

Where a new day is waking

Though we have marred and often scarred

That place where echo lingers

Time’s fringe-less fold does not withhold

Love’s offering from our fingers

But tenderly from ether sea

In fathoms freely spilling

Mercy extends and kindly lends

Fresh frames for our filling

As from earth’s brink whisper of pink

Expands in grand slow-motion

I pray that we return to Thee

Oh Lord, frames of devotion

© Janet Martin

That Sets a Poem Apart

Words can say anything

That spills from the heart

But oh, it’s what it makes us feel

That sets a poem apart

…from regular ramble

Of shaped Abc’s

A poem is an ocean

Caught on a breeze

Rush of hurricane

Without a sound

Thunder of teardrop

Crushing the ground

It’s childhood revisited

It’s sweet coming home

It’s loss, love and longing

Wrapped up in a poem

It’s a hug when we’re lonely

Its beauty on air

It’s ‘hello, my Darling’

And ‘don’t touch me there’

Want turns to wonder

And wonder halts time

As heartache and hunger

Are quaffed in its rhyme

For words can paint pictures

In mind-numbing art

But oh, it’s what it makes us feel

That sets a poem apart

© Janet Martin

It's March

It’s March and soon its melting song will fill our eager ears

As all across the country-side its white coat disappears

And crocuses begin to press toward the warming sun

It’s March; the month where we declare that springtime has begun

It’s March; and how our spirits leap to laugh those glorious words

And how the pulse of gardener quickens as dirt-dreams are stirred

To tangible fruition as we look at seeds and thrill

Before we revel in the marvel of new blooms about to spill

It’s March and soon the junco on the snow will fly away

As drip-drop notes and sunshine gloats on winter’s last foray

At last we’ll open windows, shake the dust from curtained rooms

While singing songs of rain and sun to wake earth’s slumb’ring tombs

It’s March; the tree limb stripped in fall is decked in ruby gem

And winter’s mourning madrigal is moping on Time’s hem

Before the jostling zephyr and its chortling melody

Abolishes another winter to Vast History

© Janet Martin

I’m ignoring the forecast for this March of ‘it’s going to be a lot like February’…

 Okay, so this is March 1st. Can't wait to see what transpires between the first and last day...

 ...broken nature has a lot of healing to do!

It's Saturday

It wakes us

In snuggling whispers

To softly say,

‘Don’t rush up yet,

…no need to hurry,

It Saturday’

While nudging to-do’s

Begin nagging

She smiles

And reminds us

It’s Saturday

Relax for a while

And we ease up

On the bustle of

Routine ranting pace

Because it’s Saturday

Laughing nugget of

Week-end grace

Of second-cup coffees

And pausing

To feel

The pleasure of moments

Dripping from

Time’s reel

Before the demands

Of another week

Yanks us from sleep

For now

It’s Saturday

‘Fuzzy slippers,

Girl curled next to me’,

Let’s make some muffins’ morning

And memories to keep

© Janet Martin


Enjoying an argument with her brother while he makes pancakes...I think they are on argument #3 since this pic;) good times!