Thursday, May 23, 2013


Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

They’ve figured this out,
clearly - see how time chooses
the wise – what it is to know the
fleshy body as home  - to inhabit this place
that so many fear to claim with the name they’ve been given.
And notice how peaceful one can then become,
though, yes, there are exceptions.
Was it patience?
Was it perseverance?

Let the thin veneer of moss grow slick and
rings hint-gossip of life story in the scutes of
her carapace as she strides,
slowly, between some place and
somewhere else, maybe a tawny mushroom patch;
it is of no great nerosis to her, or me.

I know she is out ahead of us, this one.

I - standing here beside her -

I am praying that someday, 

some day,

we’ll be able to catch up.

© 2013-2018/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Wild Life: New and Selected Poems" 

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  1. Fabulous poem. Thanks for the little bit of wonderful, Jamie.

    1. Thank you, Janis - for your words and presence here.

  2. Lovely...I'm glad a friend shared this with me.

    1. Thank you, Kate. I'm so that that it found its way to you. Welcome to Talking Waters...

  3. It's good to be at home, wherever one goes, and to be in no hurry to be somewhere else! Thanks, Jamie!