—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
The Sacramento Valley shares its beauty in all seasons. It is a January morning and the ethereal beauty of a winter fog lays across the fields, and the earth feels cold to the touch. Looking up, there are shades of gray and silver. Nearby, the sweet twitter of a goldfinch.
I love the dawn and the dusk, the starlight and the moonlight. I love the wind and I love the stillness. And I love that which is, and I try to not desire that which isn't. Another day is here, and all I need to do is live it.
We are the warmth of life, of living, the flame of existence, each one of us. We are beauty, we are grace, the richness of the field, the blessing of rain and light. And we must use our time well so that this wonder is not wasted. Friends, please join me now in thanks.
Stepping away from my mind for a moment, I explode from all of the love in my body, into thousands of pieces. James' love bits. And there is enough love here for everyone. Come. And bring a mop. I'm willing to share.
A family? Yes. I have one. One son is dead, another is somewhat less than sane. (Something whispers in my ear that I failed them both.) There is a daughter, sober, who also has a daughter; the little one is a delight and commands more magic than the rest of us put together. And my wife still puts up with me. Can you imagine? Married to the most minor of poets! Poor dear.
Family, come and bring the mops! I will pour the soapy water on the floor, the same old floor as always, and together we shall begin to mop.
Let’s meet in the field tonight; you walk in from one side and I will walk in from the other. Come summer, the field will be filled with sunflowers, or maybe tomatoes. Tonight? Just you and me, joining hands. Friends.
The sound of drums, this journey is at an end. The elders have come to paint my face, and to paint my body, so that I am not naked when I face the light. Now the people begin the chant, and now I take a few steps toward them. Now I am letting go, and there is a feeling of peace.
A heavy rain today; every drop holds the grace of a billion lives.
—Medusa, giving gratitude and thanks to James Lee Jobe this morning for bringing, well, Gratitude and Thanks into Medusa’s Kitchen!
—Public Domain Photo
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