Friday, January 20, 2017

The Antidote
















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

“The antidote can only be delivered
through an act of giving. Something
of value must be released to be
in service of something greater.”

“Oh,” I said. My heart suddenly
understood why it had needed
to grow so strong.

© 2017/Jamie K. Reaser

From “Truth and Beauty”
To be published by Talking Waters Press

Feel free to share

The Moon Said
















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

"You must notice you are note alone," said 
the moon. I said that I noticed. Then the moon
said, "Good. Then, I'm not alone either,"

(c) 2017/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Truth and Beauty"
To be published by Talking Waters Press

Friday, December 30, 2016

Up!




















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

She was standing in front of me,
to my left side, wearing a white dress
trimmed with lace, tiny flowers printed
upon it, head cocked, arms lifted and
reaching, little fingers wiggling in the air.

“Up!”
“Up!” she said.

This meant something; she had been
dropped so many times before.

~

What’s worse than having
to hold yourself all the time?

Falling from the arms of the
one you trusted to hold you.

No.

Becoming convinced that bruises
should be expected by the vulnerable.

No.

Avoiding vulnerability.

No.

Forgetting that you are always being held.

~

Once I rescued a tiny black-and-white
kitten that someone had thrown into
highway traffic in order to end his life.
His little organs were badly bruised
when his soft body struck the hard
black pavement. Touch hurt him.
Thus, all we did to help him, hurt him.
He didn’t want to be held. Not for
two years.

This morning, when he looked up
at me from the kitchen floor, I lifted
him to my chest and stroked his
soft fur. He was still for a moment,
then sighed. He wedged his head
in under my chin. He began to purr.
He kneaded.

I had been holding out hope
that he would someday know
of this possibility.

~
I know something of the little girl’s
story. Some of her bruises have had
odd colors and shapes, some shaped
like animals. I remember one looked
like a kitten.

~

I find myself wondering:

Is she, us?

~

Have you ever been afraid to look to the
heavens and ask for what you need because
you don’t trust that you will be held?

~

“Up!”

“Up!”

~

I am held.

You are held.



© 2016/Jamie K. Reaser
To be published by Talking Waters Press

Feel free to share

There Are Some Mornings

















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

There are some mornings when
the world does everything possible
to get you out of bed, to draw you
into the curve of the emerging day.
On those mornings, this being one
of them, I think that it is wise, maybe
even a playful thing, to wonder what
blessing is eagerly awaiting
our attentiveness.

© 2016/Jamie K. Reaser
From “Wonderment: New and Selected Poems”
To be published by Talking Waters Press
Feel free to share

Friday, November 11, 2016

The World's Voice

















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

You can hear it on some nights...the world's voice...wisdomed
yet also astonished, asking a question that is meant for us. "What
are you doing? This your life." Tonight is one of those nights.


(c) 2016/Jamie K. Reaser
Feel free to share

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

What is the World You Want to Wake Up To?
















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser


What is the world that you want to wake up to?
I want mine to be colorful and rich in texture.
I want to hear children laughing in the woods
as leaves crackle under the scamper of bare feet.
I want to sit in awe of the faces of people
who have grown old enough and wise enough
to wear their storylines.

I want to be able to sit on park benches with
my friends in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Iran
and so many other places
and hold them close,
to cry on their shoulders,
and to wipe their tears.

I want to hold food to my mouth and know that
it is nourishment for this, my body.
It is the only body that I have.

And it is my body. Of this I am certain.
And it is a most sacred temple, not a commodity
to be traded in the market places or
put to work in order to carry out
deeds that indefinitely burden the soul.

I want to be awakened at dawn by the voices of
tiny birds that traverse continents
and be wooed to sleep by streams and owls
and coyotes who are telling me that
they have nothing to fear of my kind.

I want to have faith that the young ones who
will be making decisions when I am weary and
wrinkled are well educated in the school of
worldly experience, and dearly love
this planet that is their inheritance.

I want to call you my Brother,
and you my Sister,
and have no doubt that you see me
as family irrespective of our
differences.

I want us to live together in wonderment
of this heart-cracking world,
not in terror of the skies or the oceans
or the earth beneath our feet because
we collectively betrayed our own Mother.

Sigh.

This is all I want.

This, and to wake up knowing that you
too have your eyes open enough

to go place your vote for the world
that you want to wake up to.



© 2012-2016/Jamie K. Reaser

Feel free to share

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Protect What Matters




















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

I want to live in a world in which people
protect what matters. The simple things.
The lovely things. Things that grow in our
hearts and feed our souls. We have it here
and now, the chance, that chance. It
won’t be here tomorrow. This won’t be
here tomorrow. Tell the children, or
step up, speak up, protect what matters.

This land is our land to reap and sow and tend.
Tenderness is how we become human, it’s our humanity.
Step up, speak up, protect what matters

Under skies, under rooves, stories get told and beliefs get made.
If we believe we are enough, we don’t need more than this.
Tell the children, or step up, speak up, protect what matters

Anything good is worth attentiveness.
Anything good is worth saying no for and yes to.
Step up, speak up, protect what matters.

Step up, speak up, protect what matters.

This place is maybe or maybe not, you decide.
This choice is a future in the making, make it well.
Tell the children, or step up, speak up, protect what matters.

I want to live in a world in which people
protect what matters. The simple things.
The lovely things. Things that grow in our
hearts and feed our souls. We have it here
and now, the chance, that chance. It
won’t be here tomorrow. This won’t be
here tomorrow. Tell the children, or
step up, speak up, protect what matters.



© 2016/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Wonderment: New and Selected Poems
To be published by Talking Waters Press

Feel free to share