Returning

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

The catbirds have returned from their winter where-evers. They

are attitude in the thickets, claiming themselves, claiming 
territory, rambling on about a wide variety of things that are so 
very important to them, it would seem. I love them, how and 
when they show up like this and change a place - make it both 
more known and more mysterious. Oh, how I delight in these 
simple wonders that will rip your heart wide open if you let 
life in. I’m a mess every spring: torn apart, remembering my 
humanness. Returning.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author
From "Truth and Beauty" (a work in progress)

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Dog Prayers

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

If you are stroking a dog's soft ears,
you are praying for something
better to become of this
world. Perhaps, you don't see my
logic, 

but I bet you can
feel it.


(c) 2015/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Conversations with Mary"
To be published by Talking Waters Press in 2016

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Living

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Everything that is me, cannot be

contained in one version of me,

cannot be contained at all,

really. There is so much in here

that wants to get out into the world

and try on a thousand – maybe 

a million – ways of being. “What

do you do?” Oh, so many things.

So many wonderful things.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author
Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion"

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Hiding Easter Eggs

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

She was terrible at it.

We’d find the pastel-colored, plastic

eggs filled with stale candy months,

maybe a year or more, later.

Behind the curtains.

Under the sofa cushions.

Beneath the lamp shade.

Perhaps a family dog would eventually

alert us to them, or we’d get around

to cleaning, or be looking for something

necessary that we’d misplaced.

We’d say, “Count them first!”

We’d say, “Make a map!”

But, it never happened and we’d be

left to joke that we had a particularly

senile Easter Bunny.

We can lose things so easily.

***

“Be attentive,” counsels Mary Oliver.

***

Tomorrow, we’ll hide eggs for the kids.

Across the green lawn.

In the trees and shrubbery.

On the jungle gym.

When all is said and done,

the baskets filled and

the sugar coursing, we’ll pretend

to have lost at least one.

We’ll say, “That’s in honor of

Grandma Billie.” And, they’ll

think us nuts.

***

It’ll be our way of being attentive.

© 2015-2019/Jamie K. Reaser

From "Portraits" (a work in progress)

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You Are Deserving

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

I’m not sure that the little black cat wanted

to be held, but she was going to make sure

that it experienced human love before she

passed back through the gate and onto the

street we would use to go someplace else.

That was her boundless way: to assume that

love simply belonged in a place and to put

it there whenever it occurred to her to do so.

It’s an interesting way to live:

being uncompromising in one’s stance that this

world make a place for love. I think, perhaps,

she realized that time was of the essence, that

there are so many of us that need to be picked

up and shown, in no uncertain terms, that we are

deserving. One can wander the yard for years

without knowing such a vital thing.

This morning, I’ve been wondering what happened

to that little black cat. Maybe the power of her love

magically turned it into something else later that

day. I’m imagining it now as a feisty angel. In my

mind’s eye, it has come from the heavens to pick

her up, ready or not, saying:

“Love. You are deserving!”

And, through the gate she goes.

© 2015-2018/Jamie K. Reaser

In loving memory of Kelsey Collins

From “Portraits” (a work in progress)

When Spring Teases

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Sometimes the words that come by 

say: “Don’t listen to me. Not yet.”

They know this makes me curious,

and attentive.

Right now, spring is doing the same thing;

she’s teasing,

and I want her presence all the more.

© 2015-2018/Jamie K. Reaser

From "Wonderment: New and Selected Poems"

To be published by Talking Waters Press

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The Crocus

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

You haven’t been able to see it, but it has been

there all along. There, in the darkness. The harsh

times always ask us to put faith in the invisible.

I’ve watched the gaunt squirrels searching for it.

Sometimes they prevail, pressing their noses into

leaf litter and mulch. Scratching. Sniffing again.

Scratching some more. Then, they get greedy.

Often, they move on, sad and empty, but hopeful

that something else will satiate. Soon.  And, it

continues to be there, contemplating its worth

and waiting to be of some beautiful use.

I wonder what goes on inside of it when the

Earth’s embrace turns from hard and cold to

soft and warm. Surprise? Delight? A teary

emotional release?

Something like that, I imagine.

By this age, you’d think I’d know. For sure.

But, I don’t.  I will tell you, when I do.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

From "Plant Songs: New and Selected Poems"
A work in progress

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