I ride the swirling
Ocean of unsought feelings
Forever wishing
I could harness the thunder
Of waves upon a rocky shore.

I, and me, argue
No compromise becomes
Myself, for a writer, must
Continually create.

The self, a work left,
For God, in holy wisdom,
To manifest who
I may become through permit,
Gifted creativity.

I am haunted, chased,
By dreams unresolved, tossed,
Upon the heaping
Pile of what might once have been,
Bartering, to begin again.

This storm, this battle,
I in Him will place my trust,
Whatever comes, must,
I shall stand though opinion
May dissuade, I will believe.

There is, and now shall always
Be a future for those like me.

I originally came here this evening to inform you who read due to lack of response, 2020, has been canceled. Fortunately, that is beyond my power. However, my 2o2o Creativity Project – 365, can come to a screeching halt with the application of my intention.

Perhaps it would be better to do it privately, but I seem to dislike that idea. Here, you find me still.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I see all these things about giving up technology for money, but all are hypothetical. None really say they have the money. I think they know they would lose. My pets, pens, books, journals, and typewriter would keep me. Without cash in hand, though, best leave my stash alone.

Keep well. Find pleasure. Be better than yesterday.

See ya.

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