Citing the fact nothing
Was ever certain until
Action was undertaken
We stood,
Hands clasped together
Only a heartbeat between us.
Roses blushing on their vines
Like the color of our cheeks,
Could we become
We expected
A shared breath
Gathered in a present where
All and everything shivered
Spiraling out of control?
Our glances meeting,
A golden opportunity,
Reflecting the sheen of hope
By circumstances,
A note of understanding
Rising joyful from our brave
No contagion could dissuade
Us from a path begun
In days past,
Our meanings entwined
With threads of confidence,
Beg we fight
Instead, becoming
A new brand of isolation.


I sat up a while during the early hours of the morning, and this poem was a result. I am hoping for more, I already have another, but I have not worked today’s prompts yet. I hope all are well. Be kind to one another. It is a new territory for all of us and understanding is essential, as is love.

If you need a prompt, imagine how you would begin a relationship in this time of panic and contagion. Create something of what you think. Any media is fine. I know some work with other than words.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Production of Spring


I am doing a thing on Facebook called Prompted Positive Poetry, which is a group. Today’s prompt was “Spring.” Not sure how positive I was, but considering it took a bit of the day to come to the point I could write, I am pleased. It is a rainy day in Georgia, and maybe some of you know how that goes.

I hope all of you are doing well. I am, far as I know, virus-free, but that does not free me. If you can find something that brings you beaucoup joy and do it. This will not continue forever, like all life, this too shall pass.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


In times of disruption, distress, creativity can be a safety we exercise. A bit of visioneering fantasy visited earlier.

Living in the woods with trees, briars and brambles, pine straw and leaf ground cover, and wild creatures for the closest neighbors, it is sometimes surprising what one sees.

The peace and quiet are always surrounding here. In the Springtime, the songbirds return to fill the air with rousing melodies. Over recent days since the noise is reduced with us sequestered, the small sounds are magnified.

Walking around communing with nature, eyes wide open, ears alert, a heart seeking peace, there are times when the world becomes fascinating.

Stopping to look at a wildflower, the quiet broken by the clip of hooves touching the earth is rare here, indeed, but miracles happen when we can believe. A flash of white, bright as lightning, glimpsed as a creature mythical, came closer like a reassuring dream. Breath consumed by the beauty of his appearance, feet between, not daring to touch, but only observing.

Eyes meet in a time beyond time, great love and compassion are translated through his gaze. His horn shining golden bright, he nods his head.

Whispered, “Will all this be alright? Is there reason to hope?”

His head nods again, then he shifts, so his mane falls like a waterfall.

“There is so much pain, fear.”

He shakes his head, then lowers it and closes his eyes.

“Prayer. The world needs prayer.”

He opens his luminous eyes and nods. He lifts his head high, nickers, and turns. As he drew away all the fears, panic, worries seemed to fade. He looked over his shoulder with a nod, and then raced away. The peace and love exuded during his visit sent doubt flying like the trail of his tail as he disappeared out of sight.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I am a great admirer of unicorns. I draw them at times. This time, well, writing seemed correct.


I am not the artist I wish I were, but picture this:

A Raven flying, wings outspread
Beak open, claws extended;
Diving for the menace, a majestic
Bald Eagle talons reaching
Beak also open emitting strident cries,
Below them lies the Earth
A mix of blues, browns, and greens.
The Raven and the Eagle engage
Feathers fly.
Between their combat and the Earth
We see, what has forever been,
A pure white Dove with tremendous wings
Pure light illuminating His body,
An olive branch in His beak.
The Earth turns, as battles rage,
The Holy Spirit guards over it all,
And Love will never fail.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I think of this as a video clip, but I have no skill. It came very forcefully. Now, you may believe I visualized it, but I have no capability for such. I see nothing in my head. Still, I wish I could draw it. I think it would be impressive.