Monday, March 21, 2011


Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

His yellow smock

offers no apologies

for its brazen attempt

to embody the bold cry

that we fear might pass

our own lips.

Even on culturally accepted

moments of

ecstatic inspiration –

Such as the viewing

of spring-time blooms –

So many will remain

wanting of their


of Glory.

© 2010-2012/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Note to Self: Poems fro Changing the World from the Inside Out" (Hiraeth Press;

Friday, March 18, 2011

The Woodcock's Courtship

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

“Peent!” “Peent!”

says he recently returned.

First near, then far,

then near again.

“Peent!” “Peent!”

Is his soul fickle?

This audible advance and retreat,

advance and retreat.


In the misty dusk air he circles.

With his feathered body,

he recites the ancient spiral dance

known to all mystics,

He announces the auspicious Truth

of who he is.

Suddenly the Cosmos calls him skyward

and he casts himself into the heavens.

Up he launches in body and soul,

outward and inward.


He twitters in the winged voice of ecstasy,

a cascade of emotions released so emphatically

that they collide upon utterance.

His heart becomes frantic as he circles

a hundred meters arisen

above bog or meadow or powerline cut.



The heart must expand or explode.

The heart must expand or explode.

And then, at climax, he chirps.

He chirps a loud vocal, urgent “Yes!” chirp,

signifying his acceptance of

the holy duties of embodiment.

More vocal chirps amidst twittering.

And more.

His heart has expanded beyond reason.

Oh, take note:

The descent that follows is no defiance

of The Great Spirit.

It is instead acknowledgment.

Acknowledgment of his willingness

to pledge himself in service

Of the Great Mother.

Of Creation.

Of Eternity.

Of the destined union of God and Goddess.

Where he lands,

She awaits,

Ready to play Her part.

Ready, like he, to give the Spirits an intimate

flesh form through which to dance

and merge.

“Peent!” “Peent!”

© 2009-2012/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in Written River Summer Volume 1 (2): 25-26. See Hiraeth Press:


When woodcocks return from migration in the spring

the males perform an elaborate, aerial courtship dance.

The twittering sound is not a vocalization, but a sound

produced by a special feather in their wings.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Courageous Vulnerability

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser,
bleeding heart in the snow

I want for you
courageous vulnerability.

Please sit for awhile and listen
to the ferocious whisperings
of my heart, and yours.

How can it be so frightening
to tenderly touch below this skin
which cloaks us so temporarily?

I once came face to face with a mystic
who taught me to cascade love
through our eyes
on the wavelength of intent.

It was simultaneously
and rapturous.

Nothing has appeared dull since.

I want this for you…

this endless intimate gaze and glint.

I want for you the conviction
of a firm and open stance –

to be a heart warrior
who welcomes the piercing
of Life’s blade
at the hands of the Beloved.

May you be met in your bloodletting
by those who
know what it is to
surrender victoriously.

I want this for you.

This, and nothing else,
is the full celebration of
our humanity.

© 2011-2018/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
Talking Waters Press

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