Thursday, September 18, 2014


Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

All summer long they are out there chewing
on something that is unable to shoo away their
multitude of tiny, suckered feet.

Maybe it calls out to the birds,

“Come! Perch here! Eat these!”

And, some birds do, definitely,
and toads,
and mantises,
wasps with effective yet questionable tactics, those
ladybird beetles that you naively think are
so lovely and kind,

but there are still more
scissoring away at the edges, sculpting, stripping,
all feeling fully entitled to gluttony;
there will be no acknowledgement of sin, oh no,
no repenting, no statements of any kind that
end with


I love them.

Every single one is perfect in its beingness,
and I needn’t struggle with the ethics of it all.


I listened to the evening news.

How much longer until the butterflies emerge?

I’m not sure that I have the patience to wait.

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

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Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Within an acorn resides an entire tree.

Imagine! How clever the gods; they perform
this act and better it, enlisting scads of forgetful squirrels
to do their autumn planting. This world is so ordinarily
miraculous. I do hope that you have noticed.

© 2014-2017/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Plant Songs" (a work in progress)

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Sunday, September 14, 2014

On Living a Life

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

“Be without answers at the end of every day.

Start each morning with questions.

Do what you want in the in-between,
but be sure that it gets you muddy,
and wet, and perhaps a bruise just below
your right knee cap. The briars will require
that you mend that hem. If I were you, I’d go
about naming something that you’ve never
before seen. Then you will be able to call it
and it will come to you and you can have
delightful conversations.

Be sure to introduce yourself first, if you
know your own name,

And, get curious about it. Wonder. To do a good
job, this is a must. And, be polite. Always say
thank you; how this world became so lacking
in gratitude I just do not know. Such simple
gestures could save us all.

On with it, then. You have this life to live,

And, I haven’t got all day to sit
here on your window screen.”

“What’s that?

Oh, you are most welcome.”

This happened.

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

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Friday, September 12, 2014

This Drab-Brown Field Cricket

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

How many times must a soul vanish into the dark abyss
before it can be known by the body that has been conveying
it across holy ground?

Maybe, at some point, I’ll be able
to tell you.

Any heart that has dared be present in this world knows despair.
Despair is what frees us from our attachments to illusion,
what takes us back to that place where the three worlds touch.
Despair whispers, “Now, go forward. Follow this path.”

But, you have to love yourself enough
to be able to hear these words.

I’ve been watching how the ravens fly in tandem
over the hazy blue ridgelines,
and how mushrooms emerge after rains
with little clots of red clay
settled on their heads; evidence that their soft bodies
broke through something hard. And, I’ve also noticed how
the little native bees with metallic green bodies share
in my love of bold flowers.

It is so easy to find the sacred; simply
stop believing
in the mythos of the profane.

This drab-brown field cricket, ambling her short life
through a maze of dead leaves and dying grasses,
is the next being I shall choose to worship.

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

Feel free to share