Beyond Here

Please strap me in, tight,
I am afraid of rollercoasters,
Runaway, lost in time,
Unanchored in the
How, what, when, where, who, why –
It is, I am, belong.
I dream of better days,
But the daze of dreams cannot,
Without concerted effort
Hope to materialize;
Reality is
A making space where things
Become only sometimes substantial.
I have staked my ideas in loamy soil –
Of inked paper, but little traction
My words have created, they slide
As if on brittle ice or hydroplane
Under driving rain, to be read
But seldom, perhaps never, again.
I believe in the Word,
I know nothing except language,
The romance of apt phrases long
Ago seized me taking most,
All the heart, mind, soul of me.
Who am I –
If not a creator, lyricist, poet,
Wordsmith, writer, an interpreter
Of things glimpsed, but rarely seen?
I am the shade of ink spilled,
A shadow in eternity,
Sent to speak, who am too weak
To fight, yet engage in
Extraordinary battles
In the war of the soul,
Continuously going on.
I must not eject injuriously
Now, though the rollercoaster
Sore abrade me, its brutality
Coaches me to fight my fears
Remaining a force for LOVE,
Understanding, in our
Destructively sybaritic world.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s