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a breath of fresh air
tickles still-waters
a lone swan's quill
let fall, takes flight
  carpe  diem ―
nigh weightless,
buoyantly skitters
across the water,
laissez faire;
barely dimpling
the shallow peace
on a lake in the wood

a wild feather's
mindless pirouettes
emanate from
the steeping silence
lapping  its
superficial  refection  

the true nature
of wildness,
unspoken freedom,
an untamed
wilder – ness
skims the skinny waters
seeking their own level;
leaving no trace
of  ever being  containable
 
like a breath of fresh air
reinvigorates
unconquerable souls
touching in the
conscious moment ―
a gentle passing breeze
arousing a rogue gust


Jesse Stillwater

01    June   2018
Thank you for stopping to read my soul scribbles :)
I dealt death today.

I know it’s a part of the job.
I know I’ve seen it too many times to count.
But today,
I felt it.

I left the room long after their family did.
There was no where I could go
To escape their

Roaring grief.

They were long gone.
And I was left with their precious baby.
I curled his arms and legs up
Closed his eyes
Wrapped him up gently.
With love and respect
Here he’ll sleep forever.

And oh,
They are so thankful,
That it was me
That I understood
That I was so careful
That I spent the time with them.

And you’re not supposed to take it with you.
You’re supposed to leave it
When they walk out the door
With one less goodbye.

But I took it with me today.

The way they felt before
The way they felt after
The long quiet goodbyes
The man in a suit on his knees weeping
The mother and son making a cocoon
Sheltering their dying baby.
The solemn face of the woman who plays god.
The green death.
The last breath.
The heaving of the living as he gave his last.
The waiting.
Slower rhythm.
Quieter.
‘He’s gone now’.

I watched the clock
The same way I had
An hour before
Waiting for death.

Soon as I could
I fled out the door
Ran into the street
Tried to outrun it

Instead I ran to you
I dialled your number
With shaking hands

I know I’m not supposed to
But all I wanted was you
Your voice

Ringing out
Thankfully
I wept alone.

Today I dealt death
And I found I am not strong enough
To sustain this
Alone
Or for long.

I found I still consider you my haven
Deep down
But that you are not my haven anymore
Or should be.

I listened to the silence
After the call rang out
And decided
What will I do when I hit the last straw? What becomes of me and my useless brain? This was too much today. I wish I didn’t want you. I’ve made an obsession out of you.
I built you a home
on an island in the sun
Life goes on all around
Dark skies and stormy seas
But can't quite reach your
Island in the sun
Here hope is lush
Just like the trees and green
I see a glimmer
devoid of all things bitter
Here is where
we'll choose to linger
My sister isn't doing well....but I am still praying strong.....choosing to stay positive and linger in the hope
If I could
pinpoint the
exact moment
your breath
touched mine
washed me over
in ocean waves
sea creatures glowing
in delightful recognition
as the seedlings
of connection
shimmied into our being
and, dancing within me
in its own lifeforce
your mind a living,
breathing animal
your heart, purring
and whirring its sacred forces
into my molecular structures
your soul throbbing
in mitochondric pulsing
(oh what
a delicious vibration
of ribosomes
)
Between us, we hold
the true treasures
close, in frothy
                       tenderness
a purity of the expanse
of our universe,
swathed in prismatic color
colors that shift,
these fresh hues
for which there are no name
they are lucid and fine-woven
as silk histories
yet deep as earthcore
your eyes, voice
are forever burned
into my own
every day scriptures
that rock my shattered parts
into wholeness
and,
like ancient magic,
I conjure forth
the holy gospel
rising from our bones
every second of
every minute
as our deepest fires
our most secret filth
our murky corners
our darkest hours
we weave into light
brilliant and lustrous
multi-layered in the richest
folds of the earth
and as you place me
upon the shores
of your garland-graced
                              throne
Now I'm alive in a new
kind of light
and
all I can do
is love
        and love
and love
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrOcxD3IWW0
Like a warm breath of air
He hovers in my memory
No superman, a meek soul
Not one to squander his time
But one who worked day in and out
To feed those
Whom he loved and sired
What was he?
A teacher, a farmer or an artist

I cannot say precisely...
All I can say;
He was each of these
Rolled into one

On holidays I saw him
Shut in the loft
a brush in hand
His fingers moving over the canvas
The steaming tea by his side
Untouched and getting cold as ice
Unmindful of everything around
He sat by the easel in the attic
Focussed only on the strokes that fell

When a distinct image shoots out
As the moon from behind clouds
A wave of satisfaction would gleam
Across his face,
His frantic nerves at once hushed
Bearing the look of one
Who, in an instant, conquered kingdoms

He would view it from different angles
Never seeking anyone’s opinion
But gloating if he saw
Our admiring eyes fell on it

Being artistically inclined
He lived more in the world of art

But gradually things changed
To his fright, he found his hands shaky
And the lines on the canvas
Going tremulous and disjointed
Couldn’t hold a brush!

On diagnosed of Parkinson’s disease
His world abruptly lost its sheen
He saw the disease weeding
Its way into his life
Suddenly grown old
He lost interest in everything
We saw him sitting in his armchair
So immobile, for hours on end
His eyes stretched to a far horizon

We displayed before him
Paintings once born of his imagination
To see if his world would brighten
And it worked!

Recently, in one of my dreams
I saw him sitting at the foot of Michael Angelo
To learn the art, he couldn’t perfect
In his life time!
As one grows old, when evening approaches, memories too lengthen like shadows.
Now I remember more often of my parents wondering how much of sweat and toil they had shed to make their children comfortable, how much of love they lavished and what all sacrifices they endured. A snap shot of my father who was a teacher by profession but more of an artist at heart.
Treat others with respect
then someone will respect you.
Treat women with respect
then you'll find a good one for yourself.

Don't leave your beauty to random guys
then you'll never be cheated and frustrated
Love each other deeply from the heart
don't love just for wealth or beauty
then your heart will never be broken.

If you understand each other
and love to make a happy family
then you'll never disappear
because true love can never be separated
though love has some colors and clouds.

But finally love makes our life beautiful.
The misunderstanding in love
tells us about true love
we should be patient in love that's why.

Our problems are we love someone's
fashionable life, a night or for a few days
but we don't commit to love the rest of our lives.
We swim only in shallow waters
Breakable limbs scrapping the surface
Of the thousand mile deep oceans
The bottom layers are wordless
You never cared enough to explore

Sunlight shines so scarely
Only illuminating what we want to see
Somehow we keep up it's illusion
It's all we've ever tried to believe
You never dared enough to explore

Waves roll over the turquoise surface
Their familiar motion puts a mind at ease
Big ones crash down, calm is disturbed
This is when we choose to leave
You never loved enough to endure.
Mystery.
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