Fiber Lives

This is us
You and me
Spirits riding
The wires.
Participants
In Global
Society
To the
Ninth
Degree.
We are hung
Between
Earth and Sky,
Becoming
Detached
From what
Some call
Reality.
Still, it is
In these
Hours
Many find
Strength
To endure,
In interaction
With temporal
Strangers,
Who are
Cyber friends.
The lines
Wired,
Screens,
Love or
Hate,
Friends
And Foes,
There are
Few ways
To let go
The life
Within
This realm
Digital,
Technology
Wins the hour
Abides,
Attenable.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Prompt

Photography has become ubiquitous. Take a photo, create something projected from your image. Words may be best in this instance.

A VERY OLD BOOK

Riffing off an Amazon review title, I so propitiously encountered.

A VERY OLD BOOK

Reader beware, herein lie
Monsters of dastardly mien,
You may be captured, captivated,
Made prisoner for the space
Of these many pages.
I would not read it were I you,
I did not, in truth, finding its words
Many syllabic, poetic, strange
To my modern eyes and sensibility.
It seemed akin to Dickens, Emerson,
Perhaps Poe and Thoreau, whom
I thought all left in the distant past
When what I read was for lessons,
Not for pleasurable entertainment
Initiated on my fancy whim or choice.
No, dear reader, hear, hear,
This tome is best left shoved
To the back of the shelf, covered
In ages, layers of sooty dust,
Let it be, let it lie, you have no need
Of it, nor would ever I, it is a burden
To be left without perusal alone.
Do not open the covers, do not see,
What treasures I could not ascertain,
Join me in my startling refrain
This is a VERY OLD BOOK,
Herein lie dastardly monsters
Of highly developed vocabulary,
Read At Your Own Dire Risk.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Out Option

For some time, there has been speculation about what it would be like to leave Facebook. I have long felt I contributed much more than I gained, making the proposition much less than profitable in a relational way.

I deactivated my account a week ago and have also abandoned Twitter and Instagram. A lot of consideration went into these actions. It was not the choice of a moment.

The time I have gained is tremendous. I am not subject to the harmful material posted by others and have freedom from politics—more than that, the bombardment from advertising is gone.

All my social media has come to seem frivolous, and of little value, so I temporarily quit. Whether I go back is to be seen.

I joined the social networks to build a creative platform, and none of it seems applicable in that regard. The freedom from the tyranny of having to participate and the quantity of time I recovered are strong incentives to opt out permanently.

So, I am reporting from the outside, and the scenery looks gorgeous.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Faded Roses

The flowers began as a wistful dream of a bountiful harvest, but once cut from the bushes and placed within a vase, they began to fade and crumble—a falling off begun because the blooms were separated from their source.

Nothing living can long survive without nurture. So much depends on tender care. In this life with its challenges, desperation, distractions, doubts, fears, being connected to a network of people who love us is essential.

In this time of isolation, we must find realistic ways to rally our spirits in whatever togetherness we can devise. We need safety zones to engage in conversation without masks and where we can give hugs freely.

We would be negligent to disregard the needs of those who are most vulnerable, but even they need the reassurance of beloved faces and physical touch.

It has been an exceedingly difficult year, but we can help others bloom and remind each one that even in a shadow season, the Lord is present. God will eventually clear the clouds away, and the beauty of humanity’s promise will shine as newly minted gold.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Snippets

My adventures of being unable to get on the internet by computer continue. Not a good island to be marooned upon. Thank God the tablet hooks up.

The dark, bright windows
Tell the tale in just one look,
Eyes of loving soul.


I put away fear
To meet you out here, nothing
Seems a certainty,
But that you have taken hold
Of the beating heart of me.
I run and away
From much calling me, “Come close!”
I cannot escape
How you have captivated
And claimed all my attention.


I listen for it
One small word among many
Which might change my life,
But your lips are entertained
With other occupations.


I manage myself
At times, others I am storm clouds
Above roaring waves
Without option of calm, I
Become raging tempest.


Where there is hardship
God is always near to share
His kindness and strength,
He loves us unconditionally;
We survive through His support.


© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan