Signed

I hid a dream
High upon a shelf
Behind all the things
I thought you wanted.

Now, I am alone,
The things I tried
Turned out wrong,
You are forever gone.

Reaching up, I retrieve
My long forsaken dream,
Rising hope revives
So I may yet become,

As I meant to be –
I, myself, me
Successfully –
A signature victory.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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.

Essential Pieces Missing

Days exist
Waking comes
All too early
For who I am
Yet too late
For others gone;
Those who
Different lives
Lived than mine.
Each liked/loved
Me best they could
Until finding themselves
Leaving my neighborhood
For either ill or good;
Playing roles next to me
I understand never
Easy nor predictable.

Deserted, I try
To release, find freedom
From the desire to
Recall them, keep
Forgiveness always
Part of heartfelt gratitude
For sharing with me
Whatever they were able,
Still at moments
I feel like a puzzle,
Pieces missing
Never finding
Requirements
To finish, or becoming
Finally whole.

Life, too precious
To forfeit myself,
Giving up potential;
Christ owns me
Heart and soul
Even with essential
Missing pieces,
I remember the world
Needs love –
My capacity to give
Only grows unconstrained
By pieces and parts past
Relinquished to allow
Embrace of such present,
Consigning me to
Creativity’s beauties
In outstanding days
Filled with greater love
Through God’s grace.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Youth Reach

The children, simple,
Underfoot teaching lessons
Of brave innocence;
Love their flashing sword, bright shield,
Determination – armor.
The children bestow
Gifts wherever they go,
Fond smiles bubble up
Filling hearts like coffee cups,
Bringing laughter to sad eyes.
The children desire
Understanding of all things,
Learning from old souls
Every blessing and conflict,
Each harsh word and compliment.
The children reveal
Past secrets, future dreams, things
Unknown and unseen,
They dabble – eternally
Calling out for kindness, care.
The children face time
With a will toward conquering
Those troubles they must –
Choosing courage enough to
Produce the needs, become who
The children can be
When raised with sensitivity,
Shining in history
Free to grow because there
Are miles to go, LOVE to show.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Again Then

Time does not come
Tied-up
In pretty ribbons
Red and Blue,
More evidently
Purple –
Green of a stubborn
Bruise,
An ebony night, or
Sun bright raging
Thirsty day
When
That is, the harrowing
Cold is
Out of season.

Prizes
Are rare and never
Given for participation,
No,
Those gains only come
With blood, sweat, pain –
Paid
Perhaps by generations
Who strive to keep
Love, faith, effort alive;
Tears,
Prayers over many years
Are not just present,
The future
Is also their target;

Entreating God
His mercy, grace to
Unleash
That survivors remain
Christ’s love to proclaim –
Overcoming
Overwhelming dangers, trials,
Through the continual
Outworking of individual salvation.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan