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—Poetry by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
It’s the last month of spring and the flowers are talking among themselves. The bottoms of my feet are getting hard from never wearing shoes, and the breeze smells like a tossed salad. That’s all fine with me. Now the days become a kind of music. And look at me, still alive.
In dreams I sometimes fly above the treetops of a jungle, or maybe above a boulder-strewn river that races down a mountainside. And in these dreams it is my inner-strength that lifts me, that holds me up. Consider that with your morning coffee.
In the end, COVID-19 covered the earth like night, or like a blanket covering a small and trembling child. This virus filled the sky as if it were smoke from a tremendous fire, a fire that burned for a thousand years. It flowed with swift rivers and filled the oceans. Entire oceans of COVID-19. We are simple people. We touch the virus, we breathe the virus, we wear the virus like a suit of the finest silk, perfectly cut to fit. And so now we embrace COVID-19. We embrace death. We are Little Red Riding Hood embracing the wolf at last. Come. Let me hold you. Die with me tonight.
I fear what the businessmen will do, in the end, to the Earth, so I need stands of trees around me, to walk beneath, to measure with my eyes and my heart. Movement beneath the limbs and branches returns me to myself. I am grateful for that. To be in silence there in the woods, and also there in the nearby fields, rich with this year's corn and alfalfa. Good, tilled soil with crops; that is a match to the untamed and unchecked woods, dance partners, each flourishing with the strength and grace of the other. The woods and the fields. My eyes and my heart. The world of business has nothing on us.
In one lifetime, how many raindrops touch your skin? How many heartbeats, breaths of air will be yours? You never know which heartbeat will be the last one; try to enjoy them all. Right now, this moment, you are alive. And that’s something.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Courage can be more important that life, likewise, life can be more important than courage. Could it be that grace is knowing which is more important at the moment?
—James Lee Jobe
__________________
Thank you, James, for images of dreams and hearts and raindrops on this last-of-September weekend. Don’t forget Fridays, 7:30pm: Video poetry readings on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com or youtube.com/jamesleejobe.
__________________
—Medusa
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Courage can be more important that life, likewise, life can be more important than courage. Could it be that grace is knowing which is more important at the moment?
—James Lee Jobe
__________________
Thank you, James, for images of dreams and hearts and raindrops on this last-of-September weekend. Don’t forget Fridays, 7:30pm: Video poetry readings on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com or youtube.com/jamesleejobe.
__________________
—Medusa
"In my dreams I sometimes fly..."
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
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