Murderous?

Why step on the bug,
Out here on the sidewalk paved
With the intention
Of leading us place to place –
No obstacles in our way?

The bug is minute,
It barely forces a step
Aside the margin
Leaving the path to follow –
If we are daring enough.

Why is the bug here?
Is the memory hidden,
Of the fear once known,
When the world was wilderness –
With doubt explored, overcome?

How are we now grown,
That the innocent insect
Raises our instinct
To kill, destroy, and conquer –
When victorious – we are?

Found superior,
How are we very challenged
By creatures beyond
Our overwhelming control –
Are we from nature estranged?

The bug is wonder –
For it continues, exists,
Outside reckoning
To eliminate its life –
Clinging loosely, it persists.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Prompt: Reach for a subject that touches you differently.

Staid – Still

Men and Women, collectively,
Individually,
Are fallible – prone to error.

Even those who lend hands,
Hearts, wings,
To others have days when
The world in agony and splendor
Becomes a weight beyond compare.

Failure
Is a
Habitual
Villian –
Following all who give much,
Loving more than wisdom advises.

Mistakes
Rob dignity, showcase weakness,
Tear away beauty, expose flaws,
But when opposed, the heroes
Survive.

Their stars may gain a patina,
Some hearts may doubt, lose respect;
Even those called their own
May turn away in disappointment.

As clouds clear, heroes stand, go on.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Standard Deviation

How is one exact,
But
Also outside, in doubt?
The mind is never
A closed system,
It knows those things,
But
It allows room for fault.
Variables inject deviation
From what seems inevitable,
This present; what we, as humans
Know
Here is subject to unmaking.
Change is a complete
Norm, though norms, might
Be terms to use most
Sparingly,
Because difference is
Encountered in everything.
Each creation of God –
Is fashioned unique;
All
We see, know, are, have,
Is individual, ours here
To experience within
The sampling being
We
Are and constant construct.
When we awake, rise,
We are like the day, beginning
Anew, potential
Envelopes
Us in endless possibility,
Loved, creative, free.
Nothing is beyond our
Capacity to learn,
But
Scattered uncertainty
Grows wild as weeds in
Gardens of delighted insight
A misstep, an accident,
Suddenly,
We are gone –
All we gathered, amassed,
Lost as if,
We never even happened.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Emergency
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan