Life Into Language

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

Driving across Yolo County, California, in the pouring rain, running an errand. Passing hundreds of telephone poles, lined up like drunken soldiers struggling to come to attention. And by now, the soldiers are soaked. The windshield wipers, I notice, are almost in time with the Tom Petty song I have turned up far too loud.

The fields and trees of the Sacramento Valley have joined hands with the oaks and the pines in this late spring rain, field to field, leaf to leaf, branch to branch. Up in the Sierra Nevada, an extra blanket of snow; the farms will have water all throughout the growing season. Tomatoes, walnuts, olives—perhaps all will flourish. A good season is here for the farmers, for the grocers, and for the hungry. Even now, the rows of tomato plants seem like a young army with its ranks reaching up to heaven.

Poet, why are you even here? To translate life into language. To capture moments like a child captures lightning bugs in a jar.

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Pale purple petals on a flower that I don't know, a striking sort of loveliness in a light drizzling rain. A blessing on a morning in late spring.

Green, like the taste of the earth, like the face of the Sierra Nevada. The evergreen trees that stand colorful throughout the long winter. A lone jack pine in the deep, clean snow. Footprints that go around it and then go no further.

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That which leaves us, is gone. That which stays, holds tight, but nothing is permanent. The wind, the water? After they’re gone, the rock cliffs will hold on awhile, and then they’ll be gone, too. Even the sun will explode someday.

Evening. The music of a single dove. The music of crickets. The sound of a Delta breeze, come to cool off the big valley. This, James, is the symphony of sunset. This is the orchestra of dusk. Listen.

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Today’s LittleNip:

What if we all laid a hand on the chest of a stranger and felt their heart beating? Might there be a little less hatred in the world?

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Our heartfelt thanks to James Lee Jobe today for his lyric, mindful prose poems! This Sunday (tomorrow), James will host the Davis Arts Center Poetry Series, featuring Linda Scheller plus open mic. 1919 F St., 2pm. 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, celebrating the heart of poetry...

—Anonymous Art

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