Seasons: A poetic journey of a thousand miles

Love spins my world. Out of the maze of life comes simplicity. Love is simple. Raw and unedited, lived in dreams.

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March 1, 2008

With a gun he squeezed bullets into his brain.

Oh! To know!
My pain-pierced soul
strangle me.

A marksmen, he finished his life with a bang.

Taps played.
Snow fell.

Solidarity melting away
lying oblivion.

Wildness taking away
his memory. My memory.

a beautiful life
that is all I ask.

“I love you” he smiled. A hug of warmth turned frigid.

I struggle
hiding estranged goodbyes.
His pain. My pain.

I struggle
wishing it had been me.
Days brandished by dark.

I struggle
crying in the light.
Happiness leaden with guilt.

I simply love, share an honorable strength.

Sensing, knowing, feeling,

Another way is possible.
Oh!  Can I convince you to stay?

Arms opened wide
embodied imaginations.

Oh, to only know!  Pick up a spear, pierce hope into hearts, push forward with tenacity!



Changes, as the clouds form,
growing on the horizon.
Beautifully sculptured dreams,
hearts and minds,
bringing shade, shelter and scents.
Showers cleanse our pain.
(Dream 8/20/2016 wrote @3:00am)

I literally found a hummingbird trapped in the screen porch this morning. I am not sure how he managed to enter this space. Hummingbirds have been messengers of mine since 2004 when changes of forgiveness and strength entered my life. These small creatures are a marvel of nature and signify courageous joy. I count this a true prophetic blessing from God, ministering to a weary heart.

Daily, while I was in Santa Fe, hummingbirds swirled around my head. I prayed for a chance to photograph their beauty. Finally, as I was saying farewell, a hummingbird bid me safe travels and my longing  came true. (You can see him along the white fence towards the right.)

Santa Fe Blessing

I pray you are blessed as believers in the power of love and peace.
Peace as only God gives. J

A joyful heart is good medicine, but depression drains one’s strength.
Proverbs 17:22

I often think of my brother’s suicide. It pains me to know he is gone. My life is a series of serious traumas but God holds me in His right hand and shelters me in the storm. Be well.

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Spiritual Space

God never forsakes
yet I fear brokenness.
He tends to tears
my words lose air.

The spoken Word
weighs deadly unbelief
my back aches,
under cheerless grief.

Anger shades these eyes
to truth, too raw to bare
ears too hurt to hear
feeling unlovable.

Heart strings
pull me, this dug grave.
Lightweight messengers
attempt, speak a soul free.

Desert blossoms
golden sandstone piled summit.
Here lies spiritual space
a dwelling at the end of the world.

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Santa Fe “gifts” debriefing¬†

Well that’s just great!! Drafts I had put on stand-by, have posted. Grrrr!  Now I am shamed, having gone through a week of criticism of my writing by accomplished poets, poet critics and painters.

Oh well…no excuses. 

I returned from The GLEN retreat Sunday and it is Saturday.  The days in Santa Fe were amazing! Claude Wilkinson was an excellent workshop leader. The poetry readings by Li-Young Lee and Wilkinson were outstanding. Malcom Guite was the highlight! 

Today, I remain standing upon the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to consider scores of post-retreat questions. I leaf through the workshop leader’s notes on my poems, participant comments, consider reading the suggested book “Western Wind – An Introduction to Poetry” by John Frederick Nims and breathe in the much needed anointing, for strength of spirit.

Clearly pivotal moments define us. Santa Fe has blessed me with an arm full of books, new friends and many inspiring photographs. Now to see if my labors produce good fruit. 

Happy writing, Jeanne

1 Comment


The funny thing is, i enjoy the burn. I feel the match in my hand, the light flaring up, the release of primal screams.

I am
a mad, mad woman.

I miss not knowing what i wrote in a different state of mind. Pictures are powerful, they raid this kind of fantasy.

When i am mad, i am mad all over again.


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