Saturday, August 23, 2014

Listening to the Rain

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

When the rain falls,
steady and long from clouds
resting their thick arms here on
the mountain slope,
I wonder about solitude,
how it teaches you to listen in ways that 
prevent you from explaining meaningful things to another soul;
who wants to be labeled crazy and locked up by
people afraid to have their hearts broken?

What is loneliness?
I don’t know.

For now, I belong to this world.
To understand the language of raindrops,
you must first believe yourself worthy
of their kinship.

© 2014-2016/Jamie K. Reaser
From “Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this Word”
Published by Talking Waters Press

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Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Comedy and Tragedy

Image: Origin Unknown


“Comedy aims at representing
men as worse, Tragedy as better
than in actual life.”

~ Aristole, The Poetics

Act 1: Comedy

To be the common man is the art,
ordinary and prevailing, overcoming of
hard-dealt circumstance,
believable, as is our belief in our
smallness, that only some are gifted
divine madness,

chosen to be the sacred fool.

What you are viewing is a place
that we have all come to together;

this scene. Watch it unfold, carefully.

This is what the masterful actor longs for you
to read

between the lines:

It’s a sad plot that we are laughing our
way through because we don’t want
to know that bad things are happening to good

like us.

“Good morning!”

in context of mass causalities.

Where should we shine the light?

Act 2: Tragedy

A god will fall through
fatal error or misjudgment

and find suffering in humility.

Ah, but let time pass this way and he will understand,
And, oh my,
the audience will fear his revelation,

how they want it for themselves but not at
such a terrible cost; the ticket for this show should come cheap.

He never got to play this role.

How should we cast the darkness?

The Finale

When the curtain closes, the
hero always rises.

But which mask was he wearing?

© 2014/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Portraits" (a work in progress)

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Sunday, August 10, 2014

Full Moon

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

If you are a sensitive soul,
your body is speaking now. Audible
memories rising. Dusk
descending from the mountain,
asking for the quiet
that comes after you’ve let

it all go, however you do that.

No beauty demands an audience, nor
needs to: Nature has well-

organized witnesses.

How many are awaiting her, and what will they
think of this world when she arrives? Is this about faith?
Is it a prayer? If so, what are we praying for tonight? It

could be about peace, as long as the parishioners realize that
peace is not a passive thing. I can’t pray for that, 
it would be like praying for nothingness
and I want the world to be full.

Two hours more,
while the bright green katydids rub themselves into song and
the screech owl worries the dogs with its tremolo.
I’ll wait, if I can, to make my offerings of gratitude:
I’ll look up as I’ve done for lifetimes and
be thankful for each month’s opportunity

to become human again.

© 2014-2017/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World" 
Published by Talking Waters Press

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