Beautiful As A Dream

—Poems by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
—Posters Courtesy of James Lee Jobe

Each day, take some time to spend in silence. Welcome the emptiness of no thought. Just breathe and be. Let the silence sweep you along like a leaf that fell into the stream. Just like a leaf that fell into a stream.

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A summer day. Heat lays upon the Sacramento Valley like a debt that can’t be met. Still, it’s as beautiful as a dream. The sun. The sky. The shade from trees. The sweet sounds of the finches in the jasmine.
 

There are people among us who have a lot of money and yet have no wealth. Likewise there are people with absolutely no money who are truly the richest among us. Wake up. Today is a fine day, just as it is.

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Sunlight is the smiling face of life, especially just at the moment when life begins a new day. Is it unusual for a man to be in love with the universe, just as it is? It shouldn't be. Here is the water, the air, and the earth. Here is the corner where I can pray. A new day, the sunlight joyously returns; the wren in the jasmine watches.
 

A wind from the north end of the Sacramento Valley, stout and warm, does the same thing to my hair that it does to the treetops. The sky touches my head and the earth touches my feet, and here I stand, a human being alive in this world. A fine day, indeed.

I folded the sheet of newspaper into a hat the way my mother did when I was a child. If I made two more folds it would have become a boat, but I stop at the hat, and I place it on my head. Once upon a time, I did this to please my mother, so that she would know that I learned from her. Years later, I wore the hat to make children laugh. Now? My mother is gone and so are the children. In the silence of the house I wear the foolish hat, a hat made of folded newspaper. No one sees, no one laughs. Outside, the sound of a blue jay. It is a lonely sound.
 

Hot and silent. No sign of even one bird. No dog barks in the distance, and I cannot even hear any traffic. The sky lacks clouds. I stop walking and stand perfectly still. My breath, my heartbeat, nothing more in all of the universe.

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Today’s LittleNip:

This I pray, that I might always speak up for those people whose voices are not being heard.

—James Lee Jobe

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Thank you, James Lee Jobe, for your fine poetry today and those classic posters from memory lane!

To see yesterday’s Sacramento Bee article about Dennis Schmitz, Sacramento's first co-Poet Laureate who passed away last Friday, go to www.sacbee.com/news/local/obituaries/article235221732.html/.

—Medusa, celebrating those who open us up to poetry

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