Voluble

(Poe, Shakespeare)

Books, their vivid color
Punctuating stacked spaces
Where they live, abide,
Knowing the words written on
Pages, covers – keep inside.

(Mitchell, Milton)

All the best people
Have names imprinted upon
Sturdy spines of volumes
Which invite others entry
To interiors of mind.

(Thoreau, Cameron)

Patterns woven in
Every brain, of letters which
Trace information
Only gained in printed permanence,
Dust coated or freshly created.

(Goldberg, Ginsberg)

Inked spaces running away
With any bold imagination
Enchanted enough to open,
Investigate stories penned
Set down, forever displayed.

(Emerson, Fox)

Lofty shelves overrun
Excess in careful mazes
Upright, often nearly toppled,
By a body gone awry, astray,
Never intending a mess to make.

(King, Koontz)

Every author studied
For a hint, an inkling of
What may capture hearts,
Craving permission to continue
Bundling lines readers might like.

Metamorphosis

We hunger deeply
Like the caterpillars do,
Gorging on sweet leaves
Fills voracious appetite
With what will nourish, transform.

Each moment, nectar,
Gentleness, kindness, loving
Required to convert
From our fearful brokeness –
Emotional fulfillment.

A brightness lingers
Before the silken cacoon
Is spun to contain,
God’s blessed transmutation,
Beauty aburst, butterfly.

Some years, emptiness;
Laid aside as lives become
Select new chapters,
We dare to trust us enough,
Believing love can arrive.

Regarding future
Days as if timeless journeys
When we are treasured
Cherished as unique persons
Wholly believed, complete, loved.

Prompt: Create something in first person, then turn it plural.

Gratitude:
I spent a few hours with Richard.
I have read three books already this month.
I caught a little extra sleep.
The dog did not destroy a lot, just my long-handled duster.
It was quiet today.

Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative. Three ways to follow the site are available in the sidebar. Any interaction and feedback are appreciated. May your days be punctuated with happiness.

Material on Chronicles and Haphazard Creative are © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

It Is Better…

I will put a little different spin on this, but the quote is: “It is better to burn out than to fade away.”

My thoughts run like this, if we belong to Jesus, we are candles burning that point toward the Savior. Often we suffer depression, grief, mental anguish, physical pain, existential loss, all the things that occur when living in the world.

Even though we are God’s children, we live here like everyone. Christ in His wisdom put us here to exemplify the depths of His love. He has not abandoned us. Within us burns God’s love; the Holy Spirit lives in us.

We may come to places too terrible to bear, pain that overwhelms us, desertion by those we love. Even so, we can abide in the hope given in Christ Jesus that we have an eternity that will outshine any difficult circumstance we encounter here. Life on Earth is only a beginning, and the promise of Heaven will exceed all our hopes and dreams.

Those who do not have the hope of eternity with Jesus will fade away. As with all that death touches, these will turn to dust.

But, the living, hope, there is an opportunity to assure eternal destinations. It is not God’s desire that any should perish. Jesus came that all might have life and it more abundantly. He took our sins to the cross and died in our stead. Jesus arose in victory. If we believe in Christ and ask Him to take charge of us, He will, and we will not see the second death but will spend forever with the Lord and His saints.

It is only a small thing that we endure, for we often receive miracles. Oh, what wonder to know Jesus. Burn bright, be a light.

Make It Yours

Whatever is stopping you
Remember days slip by
Like a doubtful sunrise
Glimpsed through curtains
Of cold cheerless rain.
Nothing waits forever,
If you have fantastic dreams
Do not let them fade away,
Build your chateau, sing your
Melodies, forgive the sorrows.
Say, “I LOVE YOU,” each chance
You may because hearts are fragile;
Time wings away like an eagle,
There is no turning clocks back
To bring moments past, alive.
Everyone is mortal, no getting
To life’s end, continuing to survive,
So, celebrate all the notable dates
Drink your refreshing libations,
Indulge in beautiful cake, ice cream.
If you can assist another –
Do it while you are able –
Aware time whimsically turns tables,
Generosity, kind words are actively
Loving the world God gave you.
Do not lose the blessings
Of fulfilling your purpose, reason,
Through perfectionism, procrastination,
Failures, mistakes are invaluable teachers
Improving facets, strengths of yours.
Seconds only come to you once
Do what you can when time is meet
It is no good leaving needful things
Until the arrival of tomorrow;
Nothing happens within the grave.

I only had a version of the final line to begin and wanted to build around the idea of how precious a lifetime is. We have one shot. Not knowing when the fuel will run out, we must accomplish all there is for us while there is energy.

Prompt: Take a truthful line, but perhaps uncouth, create something around it that is, if not beautiful, at least good.

Gratitude:
The weather has been warmer.
I have great books to entertain me.
Creative ideas are flowing.
My journal.
My dogs.

All of the work on Chronicles and Haphazard Creative is © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan. If you wish to follow, three opportunities are in the sidebar. Coming back is also an option. Your input in the form of likes, comments, shares, suggestions is welcome.

God be with you

Creative Offer

Broken,
A meager crust
Of bread on a platter;
My offering is before
You, from my heart, given,
Hope attempting to inspire,
Make
You step out, away,
From what dampens your roar,
Introducing sparks of
Creativity –
Drawing you into dawning,
The being you could become.
Even
As you turn away
Suddenly unimpressed,
I search my agile brain
Believing
I can bring you something
More like your desire,
Perfection –
Which might convince you
To believe in yourself
Knowing you have everything
Needed
To go after all those treasured
Dreams you hide behind half-smiles,
The prizes which belong to you.