Warm on a Cold Morning

Red Tailed Hawk, Capay Valley, CA
—Poems by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
—Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe

Warm on a cold morning, I have the blood of my father
And the strength of my mother. A gray mist
In the air is stimulating. I can live with that.

The music of Coltrane and Sonny Rollins,
Dexter Gordon and Bill Evans; I can fill my time
With notes in the air like lovely birds.

I have a fierce wife, she takes on the crimes
Of an unjust society. Sometimes I join her,
Other times Coltrane and these poems are enough.

Sometime ago I passed sixty years on this Earth.
A grandchild joined us and a son was lost,
I cannot walk as well as I did, such is life.

For no reason at all I am updating you.
The jazz is up loud. The coffee is strong and fresh.
Were you to join me here, I’d pour you a cup.

 Tule Elk, Pt. Reyes

A clear mind in life, a clear mind at death, and in between I will love the earth below me and the sky above me. I will love that water is life, and that kindness heals the troubled soul. At night when I lay my body down I will do my best to forgive people their slights, and hope that I am worthy of forgiveness for my own slights.

________________

If the cockroach could sing,
What would be its song
While crawling through the kitchen at night?

 Otter, Putah Creek

I draw circles around the things I love.
I prefer to wait until life quiets down.
At night.
Or mid-day.
When I am alone.
I have this pencil filled with thanks instead of lead.
I use this pencil.
To draw my circles
Around the blessedness of my own humanity.
Or around a picture of my granddaughter.
Or even something as simple as my coffee pot.
A favorite album.
Miles Davis or Monk or Jamal.
Now I am at it again.
A circle around my soul.
A circle around your soul.
A circle around tonight.
Another circle around tomorrow.

 Rattlesnake, Knights Landing

In spring, my peach tree blooms,
And the bright sun covers the tree
With a million tiny kisses.
In this way, my sweet peaches are born.

 Woodrat, Woodland

Spring comes on in waves, cool, then warm,
Then cool again. Back and forth
Until warm finally wins, just before summer.

So it goes with the ups and downs of living.
Some good things, some bad things,
Some easy, and some hard, joy and sorrow.

One of them wins out just before death,
But which one? It doesn’t matter.
Live in the moment,

Embrace your troubles like they are blessings.
The end matters no more than the beginning,
And the beginning doesn’t matter at all.

 Barn Owl, Cache Creek

Today’s LittleNip:

Zazen at midnight,
The quiet mind, still at last—
And then, a hoot owl.

—James Lee Jobe

__________________

Thank you, James Lee Jobe, for today’s fine poems and photos!

Stop by Sac. Poetry Center Gallery today, 2-8pm, for the Second Saturday Reception featuring Women’s Wisdom Art, with refreshments and music from The Cowgirl Sweethearts from 4-8pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

—Medusa

 Celebrate poetry!

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