Partners

I need to put my
Hand in yours, loved, secure, wrapped –
I need to rest my
Head on your chest, hear heartbeats –
I need to touch you, be touched,
Do I want too much?
Take me! I am yours, always –
Let me see you smile,
Help me find my place, alive,
Look to me, go on, survive.
The storm, together –
We can carry through – freedom,
We can become real
I see you fit, capable –
Me brave, effort will
Finally, come to fruition.
Dreams, us finding happiness
Amidst all the things that rain –
Tears, fire, light, but more, galore
Gratitude for the blessing –
Found in us having one another –
Strength embraced in love.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Beholden

I turn on the faucet
Snuff out the match
The candle catches, burning,
My love, a torrent, pours
A deluge toward you.
In passion, I am lost,
Storms around me toss,
But when you hold me,
I am sheltered, found.
Our love like a mansion
The two of us surrounds
Storms from which we wander
Deliver us together in wonder,
Captivation is our honor
Carrying us to the places
Where joy and peace live,
Love, we have so strong
To keep us safe in our storms.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Close Enough

The rain falls down
Your hand in my pocket, warm,
Somehow we have to
Get ourselves out of the storm,
The umbrella comes between
The closeness that should
Forever be you and me.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Fires, they rage, so wild,
Out of control, gotta set up –
Some smoke control,
Breathing gets harder, exerts,
Until it almost sets up hurt,
Clouds on the horizon, but no,
It is the fire’s dark exhaust.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Screaming fills in the streets
One says this; another speaks that,
Someone with matches, pyromaniac fun,
The other has a gun in a pocket, heat,
That one has a knife in a boot, treat,
Control fled, no one knows how to live
Everyone is subject to being dead.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Your hand in my pocket,
Please do not let me go,
This world is a desolation,
Join me in the isolation
Check the windows, the doors,
No egress for strangers
Can we now possibly afford.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Who have we finally become
Who cannot communicate,
Cannot show respect enough
To avoid a world that deteriorates?
Where did the love go, tell me,
We are all in this together,
If not, we will likely all fall.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Occasion of Becoming 57

Appearance

I am the one who is real
Enough you feel me in the room
Even though I keep a distance
Between the breaths that pulse,
Our lives existing here, this time.
My lightness rimmed in shadow
Hard to comprehend, understand,
Left alone, a ringing voice, clear
Crystal, like water reverb, falling,
Tinkling clarion bells announcing
Events to which everyone is welcome.
The sweet aroma on the fresh breeze
Being myself, almost, yet not me
Because the well is deeper, wider,
I know not how to plunge, emerge,
I reach the stars and still soaring
Never come home to be housed,
I walk the spaces, other embracing places
Of times disremembered, unrecorded,
In the echo caverns of my wandering mind.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Release

Love, if I had it
Like a stone, firey, lit, smoky,
Flowing like a fair fountain
Not accounted with foundation
But a wild gift, surging freedom
Sprightly on a brisk bracing breeze
Never to be captured, kept,
A mystery, calling always
For my energy, all of me
To run unhampered
Over miles with
Reckless
Speed.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Settle

Should be old enough for calm
Sedate, quiet, unassuming,
Ah, you read me wrong
The race still calls me
I should tarry, but
My muscles ache
To find more
Freedom
And so I am
Now off apace
Quick to find a path
Away into the distance
Where I may surely climb
To heights so far unconquered
Making them finally mine to own.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Gratitude

It is with a full heart
I come upon this day
Which so often I came
Near missing, slipping
Into the deep silence
That does not ever allow
Voices to relay their thanks.
Another year, and what there
Is to show for the effort
Of survival and the witness
Left of growth, I show,
Many a word, verse, rhyme
And a deed or two of merit,
But most dear friends
The evidence that I remain
Surviving and pleased
I made another revolution
Fruition of enchanted
Love blessed days.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I guess I will relieve you of the burden of reading further my celebrations, incantations, prayers of being alive at this fine juncture in my personal evolution. Forgive me, for birthdays come but once a year, and God has amply blessed me that I am still here. It is a certifiable miracle, and that is why I cheer.