On Our Whims

We chose to allow
Our hearts out of their cartons,
Knowing this might be
Dangerous to all our peace;
We were rewarded with LOVE!

*******

This Time

Nothing is nothing
Unless we choose to let it
Pass out of our lives
Without any impression,
No image in memory.
Erased fingerprints
Swept away with the stale dust
Of each yesterday
We chose to omit in haste
So we could pick up the pace.
Our lives all novels
Written at our whimsical
Leisure with what truths
We spare in ordinary
Moments which we suddenly
Realize are not
As simple as they once seemed,
But hold treasured dreams
We try to make ours somehow,
Cause love depends on us now.

*******

There are a handful
Of stones now laying below
The windows, past cast,
Into our everyday lives;
The hurts are turned beauty now.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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EverMore

Time, a remedy
For every set and season;
What was, is, will be,
History tells the stories,
We, listeners, must attend.
We paint our canvas,
But the Master guides each hand,
Though we may never know,
What there is, He has appointed:
Love as the chief principle.
Across time, its gulf,
Of here and gone, still remains
Love through everything,
Nothing lost, but all our pain
Taken, so we feel again.
Tears they fall freely
Storms of troubled shame, regret,
Hurt, devastation,
Will never buy the moments
Past across the great divide.
Living on we give
The beauty we aptly share
To every single soul
Whose path our contact touches
That they may further be
Enamored of reality
And in it find the peace
Which borders sweet tranquility.
Standing in those places
We sometimes fail to clearly see
The meaning behind, reason,
For the fearsome shadows
Before us hide the guiding light;
Darkness does not long obscure
The fact of LOVE which was,
And is, now and evermore.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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Heart Sent

Facing the world, well,
Again I would forego it,
But whatever is
Meant for me, I will do it,
Hiding cowardice away.

Who I am will not
Limit me, overcomer,
I have the costume,
The hair though may go its way,
No one is perfect, they say.

I can pray, pray, pray,
Still, I have to get out of
My way, accept LOVE,
Live the dreams, fully alive;
The future’s curtains open.

All longings become
Belonging, creating, now
A moment sublime,
Time no longer mastery;
Experience, truth convenes.

What we see, how it
Means is deeper expressed in
Who we can transform,
Over years, ourselves, to be
Nothing permanent forever.

Facing the world, well,
Again I would forego it,
But whatever is
Meant for me, I will do it,
Hiding cowardice away.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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Contradiction of Form

Living wild freedom
Only present within art
Forced to entertain
By a notion, most unknown,
But making poetics home.
Aware it will end,
Probably outside wishes
Still chasing each word
Developing all meanings
Creating because one must.
Lingering between
The infinite and finite
Exploring remains,
Tying up loose ends, setting
Them on wayward paths again.
Words, images, thoughts
Straying off to abandon
The poem, mystery.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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Fragments of Mind

I was up early and these doodles came out my noodle.

Morning comes chirping
Alive, rousing the senses,
Brightening the mind.

*****

Who we are is not
In question, when solving for
X one assumes Y.

*****

When given blessings
Beyond imagination,
God is no concept
His agency becomes real
As every footstep’s echo.
*****
You do not know,
I cannot tell you, but
The change is miraculous.
*****
Bad when you write in
Poetic lines without thought,
Lyric entrances.
*****
In case no one told
You lately, you are treasured,
A unique blessing.
*****
That fire you doused with
Gallons, the embers remained,
Caught and blazed again.
*****
I need you like waves
Need the shore to remind them
Here go, but no more.
*****
Sometimes people fail
To realize love has its
Own devices, it
Cannot be metered or
Taken out of its choice lines.
*****
What a miracle
Is a child who comes needing
You, but saves your life.
*****
Redemption is not
A one time process, daily
It becomes again.
*****
Doodling in words
Just finding this and that
In the attic blest.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
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