Spring

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Every year
when it comes,
I ask myself:

“What am I emerging from?”

 “What am I emerging into?”

Sooner or later we must leave

the darkness. Ready or not
the brisk air of early spring
wants bodies to hold on to.

So, I think on the others coming forth.
The bear and her cubs that have been
hidden among the rock walls

above my cabin.

The frogs and salamanders that

were below ground,
breathing through their skin.

The flowers, a sacred pattern

of cells laid out on an invisible

blueprint of celebration.
And I have a question:

how too do I take myself into this world?
I think about how it seems

so effortless to them.

There they are where they

weren’t before.

But poets like to find things,

like an idea,

like a meaning,

something that causes stirring,

because a world that always

sleeps cannot awaken.

So, this is it, I think:
some words on a page,

some questions arising among

them.

Here I am saying,

“It is spring!”

And asking you to notice

that something wants

to emerge,

and must.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion"

Winner of the Nautilus Book Award silver medal for poetry

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The Carolina Wren

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

It is daybreak and the Carolina wren calls

out from the thick of old boxwoods that stood

around a log cabin and someone else’s lives with

a loud, cheery greeting that has defied the

intricate telling of at least two poets. 

They won’t sing it either. But, they know how to

pay attention, appreciate, and praise a thing. 

Anything. And, this is what he is doing too. This 

bright chortle must be praise. Maybe it is for 

daybreak. Maybe spring. Maybe simply the fact 

that he has a song when so  many have forgotten 

theirs. It could be that it is about tasting a morning 

seed, or little jumping spider, or simply that it is 

with song that he tastes this life. Poets can do the 

same thing with words. We won’t starve. Praise 

satiates. I want to believe that we all have some 

way of coming alive each morning and care to do it, 

to taste this life, and have the courage to say there 

is something holy inscribed in all of it. It’s not 

necessarily about bread or wine. It doesn’t require 

formality. You can be rascally about it, like the wren, 

like some poets. Guess which ones.

There is a wren in the boxwoods next to me.

I have a cup of  tea. And, I’m so grateful

that I couldn’t contain myself.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion"

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This Night the Rain Spoke to Me

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

This night

the rain

spoke to me

heavy, saying,

“I will create

a place for holding

lovers and their spawn,

and you will be happy

with this earthly life.”

And, it kept its promise

and dropped.

For hours.

And, the night smelled

like spring,  like yearning,

like sex. Like life hell

bent on renewal.

And, I listened to all

the voices crying out

in the darkness

and understood

everything they

said.

And, some part of me

was very happy.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion"

Winner of the Nautilus Book Award silver medal for poetry

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How Many Mornings

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

How many mornings have I risen and forgotten that

rising is a gift? The sun streaming through my window,

or a grey horizon, or rain pelting the metal roof: gifts.

And, the bird song or just bird banter. The dogs begging

with their big brown eyes to be fed the same kibble

they were fed yesterday and all the days before. Gifts.

Mornings deserve tenderness, a caress of gratitude, a

little recognition that nothing is promised. I think that

we could learn to say, “Thank you!” to the sunrise

and keep the world alive.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion"

Winner of the Nautilus Book Award silver medal for poetry

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What This Is

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

This is a statement about things gone missing.

This is a reflection on beauty and how it is fleeting,

and how memories can never be true

to what we are gifted in any particular moment.

This is a call out to those still here, especially

those who know it. Those who are grateful.

This is an invitation to live. To cherish.

This is a reminder that you don’t get forever.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion

Winner of the Nautilus Book Award silver medal for poetry

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Singing Mice

Art: "3" x "3" miniature by Karine Thoresen
www.KarineThoresen.com

I found a new grief today:

Scientists have discovered that

mice sing like birds, but we can’t

hear them.

I don’t want to be left out of life.

© 2016/Jamie K. Reaser

From "Wonderment: New and Selected Poems"

To be published by Talking Waters Press in 2017

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So Many

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

The frogs are so many
you can’t mistake the pond for emptiness.
Each voice, different, like a moment.
And I stop my hurrying, for awhile.
What fortune it is to awaken each morning!
I go to the ponds, anticipating something
miraculous at the edge of what is solid and
what is not. And, it is there, something,
always there to greet the unknown day,
and I wonder if my coming isn’t its story
of something ordinary but worthy of

words. Maybe, I’m lucky and it's praise.

I’m praising them, all of them, so many
of them, now here calling out for what they want.
Look at that! How they know it and say it.
"Come to me! Come to me!" Have any of us
ever been that bold, truly?
Imagine that in your own body! Really

saying what you want and need.

Surely, I will praise them as they float on the pond

and tell it as it is! This day is worthy of their gusto, 
of their intent to say “Yes!” with bravado to the forces
rushing through them. Life! Sometimes I forget 
about it. About what a chance this is. What a chance
to live, and call out for what you really want, 
for what brings you alive. This is my frog voice.

© 2016-2020/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Conversations with Mary: Words of Attention and Devotion"

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