—Anonymous Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
The season begins its next change, and the air above me, while fresh, bears some wound that I cannot see. I can only see the blood from this wound, and smell it in the air. With this blood, and in this air, I paint stripes across my face, on my cheeks and my forehead, like a warrior. What have I to fear? Death has always been close to me.
A mountain might block a river, but in the end it will not matter. The river will cut through the mountain, or go around, or simply change direction entirely. Thich Nhat Hahn said, “Go as a river.” I will.
A storm comes, uninvited. Don’t fret, it won’t stay long. A bluster, a visit, a shout, then goodbye. And after? The sun again, or the moon and stars if it is night. Oh, world, you marvelous old goat!
At day’s end we are blessed with darkness,
At night’s end we are blessed with light.
All throughout this life we are blessed
With the truth of change. Bless’d change.
That which is easy can overcome that which is difficult. Simplicity can overcome complexity. With faith and love, life goes on.
Make your peace with the dust.
Friend, we all return to the dust.
Gray skies. A cool breeze, swift and bright. The flower of this life blooms, reaching out, reaching up.
—Medusa, with thanks to James Lee Jobe for today’s talk of spring and seasons changing, and “the flower of this life”…
For up-coming poetry events in our area, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
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