Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Fallow
















Plowed and harrowed,
but left unseeded.

What an odd and exhausting
period of rejuvenation
this is.

The dark rich soil of me longs
to support new growth,
to feed Life-sustaining nourishment
to a soul-starved world.

Oh please,

Tell me what nutrients
I still need claim
to be deemed worthy of seed.

Kernels of hope fly past
in crow beaks
but there is never an
effort made to plant.

Rain comes,
and the Sun shines
deliciously upon my hungry body
but I have nothing
to bequest in reciprocity.

So deeply rooted
are my woes
amidst this positively-intended
abandonment.

I wonder in the dark hours,

Is it the chemistry of tears
you seek?

And I offer electrolyte salts
in streams.

Still I remain fallow.

***

Hafiz tells me
a divine seed, the crown of destiny,
is hidden and sown on an ancient, fertile plain
that I hold title to.

How then does one reveal the
fore-ordained Gift of Self?

Dowsing with willow brings
me to the core:

Embryo and endosperm.

In essence, it is me
feeding the offering
of sustenance that
is myself.

I am entitled to give.

These sweet tears of joy
I absorb,
and swell.

And swell.

So this is what it feels like
to break free
from the hardness
and rise!

© 2011-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life" (www.hiraethpress.com)

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Pruning















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser


Can you live with the scent
of larkspur on your lips
while others seek to destroy you
because of memories
they can’t recall?

Truth is not found on the
material plane.
It resides in the imprints
you’ve left during your
comings and goings
on the Other Side.

Don’t let yourself be hooked
into playing a role you
died to lifetimes ago.

The Beloved never manifests
a single rose.
You too must choose to
be a bloom a hundred times over.
Let the thorns be protectors
not villains.

And even if the shears do come,
bless your courage
for having shown up in this life
well enough
to be noticed.

© 2011-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life" (www.hiraethpress.com)

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Falling from Grace



















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser



Where I sat on the crumbling brick wall

the pigeon fell,

gasping its last two breaths in my lap

while our eyes introduced our souls.



When I looked to heavens above,

there was only sky, cobalt blue.



What were the chances?



I know what it is to fall from grace -



That rocket-shot tumble

facilitated by your own dead weight

thundering the surface identity into

a direct collision course with

the very foundation of Life.



The impact is the point.



So many times, I’ve missed it.



Sigh.



It took a poisoned pigeon

to teach me this:



“Rest your weary wings

and unfold your heart

on the way down.”



It’s the only way

to land with Grace.



© 2011-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life" and "Wild Life: New and Selected Poems" (www.hiraethpress.com)

Monday, October 10, 2011

Asters Under a Hunter's Moon















Photo: Jamie K. Reaser


In bold defiance of nothing

we convene under a Hunter’s Moon,

white asters blooming

thighs to ankles,

a wedding train

that spans the width of this trail

and down the Path

eternally.



Life proposed at conception,



but it has taken me

decades to yield to

my worthiness as a blushing bride.



The owl says, “Who?”



And I declare, “me” -



Committing to an inextricable partnership

with the World

at the altar

of a humble and privileged

embodiment.



This breath says, “Yes.”

And so does this one.

© 2011-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life." (http://www.hiraethpress.com)