slightest cut lets in life

Posted on 07/14/2019 Posted in Memoir, Photography, PoetryTagged anxiety, depression, dreamscapes, forgiveness, friendship, hope, journey, listening well, love, meaning of life, mental well-being, my promise garden, relationships, suffering, this writing life, who am ILeave a comment

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.

Like Dicken’s “Tale of Two Cities” I have lived a tale of polar opposites. I have known a dark night of the soul and the fresh morning dew of enlightenment.

No memories can ever be forgotten but they can be forgiven. And the forgiveness allows me to wake up and be grateful for everything. Even the memories that still cause sharp pains. Those are the memories that led me to despair and wrestle in a black, plastic garbage bag until I finally took the knife, I once used against myself, and started cutting open breathing holes.

wandering wind

Posted on 06/13/2019 Posted in PoetryTagged dreamscapes, friendship, journey, listening well, meaning of life, this writing life, who am I3 Comments

dig
spirits released
the soil shifts
to congest my chest
flicker of stars
moon shadow
below

Coming into my own.

Posted on 06/11/2019 Posted in Photography, PoetryTagged forgiveness, friendship, listening well, meaning of life, mental well-being, this writing life, who am I3 Comments

My own space. Mostly in my head. Yet, I stretch my arms up and out.

Fear diminishes. Courage sets in and becomes comfortable. Silence.

An awakening. Your idea of me no longer digs into my heart.

The match you hold hangs over my head. I close my eyes. Pray instead.

In Desperation

Posted on 05/24/2019 Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, Soul JournalTagged another writer's blog, dreamscapes, journey, listening well, meaning of life, this writing life, who am ILeave a comment

In a desperate attempt to find myself, I appear a mess. And that mess includes a home full of rooms and a collections of things. Ideas endlessly scattered. Everywhere.

So where have I been? Trying to find me. Editing my physical, emotional and spiritual self. I still haven’t quite found what I was hoping to find. I am getting close.

And if you haven’t noticed, I started another blog. An attempt to organize my thoughts. Am I successful? I certainly cannot see myself clearly. I avoid mirrors out of fear I won’t like the response.

But always I make my way back to writing. Still scratching the dust on the road.

My Promise Garden

Posted on 04/17/2019 Posted in Photography, PoetryTagged dreamscapes, forgiveness, friendship, journey, listening well, meaning of life, this writing life, who am ILeave a comment

Finding strength
in the oaks and white pines, bird song and Spring Peepers.
On dragonfly wings
I glide among all things.

As the Monarch rises, I am magic in ordinary occasions.

The sunrise and sunset
the morning dew and evening showers.
Bring me a path unseen
I will walk among the flowers.

Sacred Passage

Posted on 04/16/2019 Posted in Photography, PoetryTagged dreamscapes, journey, listening well, meaning of life, mental well-being, this writing life, who am I5 Comments

The minutes pass faster
than are deeply enjoyed.
Burn out
before we see the light.

The minutes run ahead
as hours catch up.
Dangle
before our hands pass through fog.

Check the wrist
where steel grey foam convenes.
Praise the waves
for tumbled glass unworthy.

Barriers

Posted on 04/12/2019 Posted in Musings, PoetryTagged counsel, courage, dreamscapes, healing, listening well, meaning of life, mental well-being, peace, philosophy, relationships, suffering, this writing life, voice, who am I2 Comments

Ever so alone in the world
you wail
years into days,
days on end a blur.

Time to dig the earth
find the roots of torment
as people weave within,
rattle my soul.

How does one understand truth? Truth was set in stone long ago. The greatest of commands, to love. Peace of mind blooms with watered intentions of serving others. Do not murder. Do not plant false lies. Do not appear as love with malice for others in your heart. Find your sixth sense and do not be fooled easily.

Often when we are hurt, our initial reaction is retaliation. The anger burns hot inside. Emotional self-discipline circumvents such reactions. I consider myself in-training. To find strength a cure.

Being honest but peaceful and forgiving paves a long road home with hope. Sometimes walking away, when possible, is best. Remembering to breathe.

Courage to exit and enter the world.

Hey peoples!!!

Posted on 04/10/2019 Posted in Photography, PoetryTagged anxiety, depression, dreamscapes, forgiveness, friendship, hope, journey, listening well, love, meaning of life, mental well-being, my promise garden, relationships, suffering, this writing life, who am ILeave a comment

I have missed this place. I have missed you.

So what has been going on? So much!!! Sitting under a poetry mentor. Restructuring old poetry and finding myself. Taking piano lessons. Working on Mozart and Tchaikovsky pieces.

I start a new volunteer position in a women’s homeless shelter directing an art therapy group in mid-June. After i take a solo travel trip to Nantucket.

The daily weather is cooperating so tending to my new garden in Harvard Massachusetts. It has been almost a year that we moved to the Boston area. Busy picking up sticks winter strewn about the yard and wondering where to station a summer writing cabin. The best of my days are spent sitting atop prospect hill, watching the sunsets.

I hope to be able to spend more time here at WP. I do hope.

😘❤️🐚 jeanne

Found in the Lost Pile of Civility

Posted on 01/21/2019 Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, proseTagged dreamscapes, Forest Stories, journey, listening well, meaning of life, philosophy, this writing life6 Comments

The year 2018 is locked away. The key, fiery hot, so as not to entice people to hold on. Look back.

I look forward to 2019. My prayer focuses on the war of words, which has reached a feverish pitch. I honestly hope people’s superiority complexes does not burn down houses; leave room to erect new powers and diminish freedoms.

I smell the fires burning and there is little relief. In our condemnation, humanity in one fell swoop, dresses outlandish lies with mixed-up truths.

Seems to me
as we slowly decline,
we beat around the bush,
contemplate how to survive.
Generations realize this drift,
on a sail-less boat,
the cloth wrapped around our bleeding hearts,
words confessed on bended knees,
misses the sliver in private eyes.

Same old, same old story.
The beginning is the end.
The terror in other’s minds now belongs to us.
Realize hungry is, as was,
and nothing eaten ever satisfies.

Measure our words against ourselves
need I stand upon a soapbox,
add my rhetorict to humanity’s misery?
As ash buries the smoldering coals
are we aware we are wandering,
found among the lost pile of civility?

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

Posted on 01/17/2019 Posted in PhotographyTagged another writer's blog, doors, dreamscapes, journey, listening well, meaning of life, portals of time, relationships, this writing life, travel, who am I1 Comment

A door post… Since it has been a while and being the door pictures are backing up my phone memory… i will release a few from my time in Massachusetts… so far!