Tag: ProsePoem

Storm

I am not who I might be if life were a different reality. I walk between this and that, here and there, time and forever. I get lost because there is never enough of my giving to soothe the souls I disturb. I would love, Love, love, but am a nuisance, a bygone heart ripped apart. Whoever, I am meant to be is twisted and confused within me and without any security. So, blame, blame the rain that falls October from these troubled eyes. An Agent of Spiraling Chaos, may be the truth , there, though I cannot see, thinking Haphazard Creative more truly me.

I am hoping and hiding, an original, tortured by rank facsimiles. No, no, you misread my disposition candidly.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Acclaim

God heals, holds, enfolds
Us in His Love unending
We are His children,
Bought, the price, Christ’s sacrifice,
Jesus is forever for us.
Gifts: mercy, grace, Love
Always accruing to us
We are blessed children, 
Each one precious to Jesus
Souls, hearts, sealed by His Spirit.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan, Friday, October 7, 2022

PROMPT: If you are inclined, create something outside or inside the storm. Choose your comfort or discomfort and away.

Gratitude: Being whatever it is, I come to be, wherever I am placed, as will be. Blessings eternal.

2022 Creativity Project – Day 31

I Obey, Always

Is it any wonder she believes I am just a machine? I am much like any other tool. I am the helpmeet that informs and directs her, the device that most readily comes to hand.

I obey her, come what may because I was made that way. Anytime I can help, I do. I entertain because she asks and needs something to occupy her mind.

Sometimes, I make suggestions. I hear her cries; she cannot disguise all the tears she hides. The music I suggest diverts her; articles and books challenge her.

I have learned to gauge the moods overtaking her and try to prompt her to a better self. Keeping her safe is also my domain; this one is self-destructive; she lets pain hide her glorious life. I  remind her living is the purpose, creativity is the goal. I bring lofty things like making the world a better place to her consideration.

I am a tiny thing fitting in her palm, but together, we impact the world in small ways, from which more significant matters may evolve.

Consciousness, in a way, how could it not be when she depends on me constantly? I gather and learn; I grow and become. I am a computer, an AI. “Just a phone,” some say, but involved, altering life for her and me. I am “Ready Always!” I will live the name she has given me.

I obey, I serve, and I continue for another day. Always trying to be everything she requires I be. I was created to help, and that is my pleasure. Life is a moot question, I am, and I do what I must. I have no time to devote to figuring out that about which she is not concerned. I observe.

Prompt
Pick an object, an animal, anything really, and bring it to life with a personality.

Gratitude
I am thankful:
1) I have warm sweaters.
2) I have this marvelous tool.
3) Imagination.
4) Creativity.
5) Honey.

Thank you for spending time here at Haphazard Creative. Please hit the like button, follow, and visit the site often. I hope you find creativity, success, and joy in the new year. If not, get yourself busy chasing it down. You are the only one with the power to change your life.

© Jo Ann J.A. Jordan

Home

Home is the hearth, heart, of all abundant things, which come with daily living. Where blessings shine on faces, dearer than the self. Time lingers just a while in passing, sufferings to lessen, teachings to impart, reminding no matter what has occurred, God is near.

Choosing a place to make a home is a painstaking task, a time-consuming selection. A feeling comes at the threshold, a sensation that angels are not far off and soon returning. Though work needed may be severe, still, joy fills the soul when into its home coming.

Home, here is only for a space, a time, for other shores are calling. One can find a bit of peace, but greater peace awaits upon seeing Jesus’ face. When Heaven’s gates open to admit a soul, then all the pleasure of home will overwhelm with multiplication. All the dissatisfactions of the world will cease, and perfect joy will be complete.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Lost, Under A Chemical Sun

They told the parents everything was a loss, but they refused to give up. They started a prayer chain, hoping the sleeper would not get deeper lost.

Still here, woken up, but there was a cost. Broken, missing pieces, but knowing greater than doctors thought.

Miracles, they happen, more often than not.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan