who knows which hour it starts,
which minute, rhyme or reason.
breaking of rules,        our hearts
open.                         split a season.

on spring,                 slight chance,
light            or prayers can change.
sons      move in a prouder stance,
yet others rage.

black bird sings   early
the same bird calls late.
sense that nearby
one year came straight.
spring slides. the
moon draws tides.



sbm.

The snow is gone
The sun’s come out
The grass is green
The flowers sprout

The birds all sing
The air turns fresh
The wraps come off
We show some flesh

So crack a smile
Or scream and shout
That’s what spring
Is all about
BOEMS BY JA 265

in a cathedral of my own making
i am dust basked in sun light
with hands stretched out
to love the pillars
that have held me up
when the stained glass windows
were celebrated for the
light they let in
and the most divine part of me
the cracks of my temple at
the bottom of my spine were
left to widen like horizons
begging to be spread farther
were left like myths untold
but all the stories are true
and the smallest parts of me
are not fables and myths
left to keep your imagination
alive and you afloat
the smallest parts of me
are particles that have
held me up longer
than you have
and i may be alone
just as many of us are
but who has time to
count a star
when astronomers count
galaxies on the tips of their fingers
and i am but an atom of the universe
just as we all are

The bitterness of knowing
You do not deserve sadness,
As though pain were a prize
You have not earned, and yet
The knife in your heart, and life
Pouring from your eyes to this page
Beg to differ,
But with a world that has earned sadness
And I, who has just stumbled blearily
across it, like a feast for my hungry soul,
Stay bitterly and undeserving,
Guilty for tears
Without reason or right; a smile
Is the simplest lie, but cloying
When you have no right to be hurt
It is unbearable, that smile
That rests on my unbearable lips

Hopeful
Of the future,
Praying for harmony,
Eternal peace and joy,
Fruitful work without
Untimely death,and
Love to last forever.

Chill give sway
to tropic breeze
rain consume ditch
and shallow space

mock spring
frogs, birds sing
fools believe
spring’s arrival

frigid air
soon returns
frost burning
hearts too frail

blue
like the sky
before night
swallows you.

In haste
I free flow
Towards the
luminescence.
I can see my guardian
Protectors,
I see their
Unearthly
Care
T
A
K
E
R
Essence.
I'm gleeful
And pleased
As next to them
Is God's presence.
This to me is a
Present.
As amor
And vim
Overtakes me.
I rest unwearied
Easily,
H2o through me
Shows
The banner of my
Existence.
I thank my guardian
Angels
For their hovering over me
And their loving kindness,
Keeping me on the path
To fufiill
Gods mission-

I could feel the tension
I could feel he no longer wanted me
I knew when he looked at me and his eyes were looking through glass
I shattered in this moment
And I knew by the stale way he would say I love you
It sounded flat and so my heart became brittle
And I knew by how his hand would tremble against my skin
Stand off-ish hands, my skin is scarred
I knew then he no longer wanted me
I could feel the slow slipping, away.

I am awakened by a dream
That slowly comes into view
From gray shadows to crystal clarity
Of both sight and sound
Distant fire crackles
The smell of burning wood stretches
These miles of open wilderness
The rolling water of the river
Behind me
I stand in thanks to the spirits
That have shown me the way
And the bounty I will share
A great storm erupts on the distant horizon
Sweeping across the plains
Relentless
Destructive
Thunder rolls and lightning strikes
The swirling winds gather us up
And take us away
The cries
Echo in my head
Then fade to black

so tantalizing
the whiffs from the kitchen
an omelette of freshly-laid eggs
home-grown onions and tomatoes
and a touch of spice to thrill my tongue
as i chew the goodness of the mushrooms
so enriching
jazz as a soundtrack for the first meal of the day
cooked over an open wood fire after sunrise
the blue sky is a huge canvas
on which the rising smoke etches multiple shapes
that dance and dissipate as a whispering breeze passes by
here our sweat is the appetizer for the natural goodness
of the rich and abundant foods in our organic garden

I will be the gladdest thing
  Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
  And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
  With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
  And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
  Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
  And then start down!