Dance

Sorry I've been absent.  My computer crashed and is beyond repair, so I'm waiting to get a new one.  My son loaned me his this evening, so I could check my email, blog, etc.

Life has been crazy.  Between traveling, family stuff, getting one son registered for college last week, and our other son registering for his college this week, I haven't had the energy to think about writing.  For the NaBloPoMo Prompt, I'm using the following poem.  I originally wrote it for a Sunday Scribblings challenge.  I love watching dancers, and dream of dancing, but am content to still be able to walk.  I hope you enjoy this:

In dreams I dance,
spinning effortlessly across the flour,
my soft dress fluently swirling
around me to the rhythm of the music.
Moving gracefully, lightly,
unencumbered by age and circumstance.
In dreams, I still dance.

© 07MAR2010 ajjahner

Violets & Kittens...

For dad... who left us on a Friday, 22 years ago today.  He loved animals and flowers.  My violets bloomed this spring, for the first time in several years, and this forgotten image came to mind...

nose pressed to flower
soft kitten breath on purple
the violets dance

I hope this verse conveys the curiosity of kittens, exploring a world new to them.  Treasure your loved ones, your days, the beautiful world all around you.  Enjoy life.  Breathe it all in.  Rejoice in the simple moments.

© 20APR2012 ajjahner

Some thoughts and a short poem...

I have not lived up to my bargain to post every day this month.  It's been a crazy, sad, busy time for my family.  Dealing with the loss of a loved one takes a lot out of you.  My husband and I just returned from a trip to his father's home.  We met his sister and her friend there, and we spent a hectic weekend sorting through years of accumulation.  There was, and still is, a lot of stuff.  The one nice thing is, it was very organized.  We donated and recycled what we could, but two pick-up loads still went to the landfill.  Some precious treasures went home with my sister-in-law and with us.  There is still a lot to do, but it's mostly cleaning, small repairs, and painting in preparation to possibly sell the home one day.  There is no rush on that.

Every room in the house was filled with memories, as was the yard and the garden.  It was like whispers, too quiet to hear, but definitely all around.  Poignant, palpable, precious....

Silent rooms and
walls with dusty photographs
Paintings created, hung with loving hands

A chair, a throw,
favorite jacket in the hall
Symbols of the life they once enveloped

Quiet whispers
of voices no longer heard
but hanging in the air, just beyond reach

Memories linking
hearts to hearts, throughout time
Unbroken chain of life continues on

© 17APR2012 ajjahner

Poetry Memories...

I've always loved poetry.  As a child, my mother bought us a set of Childcraft Encyclopedias that I loved to read.  Book #1 was Poems and Rhymes.  I spent hours thumbing through it.  Continuing with poetry month, I'll post a couple that bring back memories of those days.

For, lo, the winter is past,

The rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth;

The time of the singing of birds is come,

And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.

~ The Song of Solomon

~~~

Morning

Will there really be a morning?

Is there such a thing as day?

Could I see it from the mountains

If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like water lilies?

Has it feathers like a bird?

Is it brought from famous countries

Of which I've never heard?

Oh, some scholar!  Oh, some sailor!

Oh, some wise man from the skies!

Please to tell a little pilgrim

Where the place called morning lies!

~ Emily Dickinson

~~~

Afternoon on a Hill

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!

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

I hope these brightened your day, as much as they have mine.  I may be absent from posting for a few days, but I'll "see" you all again soon!

A Request...

I'm skipping a poem for today.  I wanted to ask for some special prayers this week.  Tomorrow Gabriel goes in for a very important surgery.  The doctor will be building him a full heart or doing something called a Fontan procedure.  The full heart is what we're hoping for.  You may have seen the link on my sidebar, but if not, this is Gabe:

I encourage you to go to his mother's blog.  She wrote the most beautiful letter to him.  You can find it at The Four of Us, click on the title...  "If I Never See You On Earth Again".

It will touch you, I promise.  It make break your heart a little bit.  I know it will make you want to pray for a miracle for sweet Gabriel.  Please read it... Please Pray...

A Surprise in the Mail...

To begin, I want to wish each of you a Happy Easter!  It looks like a beautiful day here in Idaho.  My plans are simple, to spend the day with my husband and sons. 

I received the most beautiful package in the mail last week!  I won the giveaway from Michelle Palmer, and here is what I saw when I opened the package...

 This is what was inside...

Michelle does such beautiful sketches and painting.  You can see more of her work in her Etsy Shop,
Michelle Palmer Art.  She drew the acorns, placing them randomly in the squares of this vintage piece of linen.  She left the buttons separate, so I can place them where I wish or leave them off altogether.  I love this!  The acorns take me back to my childhood, and the giant oak tree in our yard.  I spent hours in the shade of that oak, reading my Nancy Drew mysteries, looking for 4-leaf clovers, making dandelion chains, and collecting acorns.  Precious memories of simple times.  I will treasure this!

Today's Sunday Scribblings Prompt is Treat.  The word is implied, rather than being inserted in this post.  The treat was winning the Michelle Palmer piece!  Continuing with my April poetry theme, I wrote the following:

In the shade of ancient oak,

branches stretched upwards and out,

solitude is not lonely.

In the wonder of cool shelter,

a bumpy floor of grass

and acorns so abundant. 

I choose a spot and stretch out, 

favorite book in hand,
under comfort of green arms.

© 08APR2012 ajjahner

Those of you who are readers, will recognize the treat in this piece.  There's nothing quite like finding a place you love to enjoy a great book.

Taking Flight

Here's another earlier poem of mine, that really takes me back.  Isn't memory an amazing thing?  If I close my eyes, I am on that swing, going higher and higher.

Taking Flight

My feet push against the earth

Higher, higher

The swing takes me up

To blue sky and then back again

Toes striking the soft, dusty brown earth

Pushing, pushing

Reaching for the sky

Imagination taking flight with the seagulls,

The robins, the wild geese

Grandma calls, “Dinner”

Releasing the chains I fly through

The air for an instant

Then feet connect firmly with the ground and

I go running back to reality and the mundane

© 11JAN2010 ajjahner

As with all my writing, journaling, photos and art, please do not reproduce or copy without express written permission.  Thank you for respecting my copyright.  I hope you're enjoying this month of poems for the NaBloPoMo prompt "Poem" and to celebrate National Poetry Month. 

Change...

It comes, and then goes
like breezes on a summer's day,
or ice melting in the sun.
When the water runs,
then trickles away
til the stones are
dry again, and warm,
and no trace remains
of what once was.
Life changes
and moves on.

 © 06APR2012 ajjahner

Another Selection for Poetry Month

Just a little poem, on this cold spring day.  Even with the wind, and the chill in the air, the birds have been singing outside my door...

Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear:

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year.

Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee!

We'd make, with joyful wing,

Our annual visit o'er the globe,

Companions of the spring.

~ John Logan ~

This free image was shared by Dawn of The Feathered Nest.

Poem, Art

I decided to go with a short poem, lighter poem today.  This was written for a Sunday Scribblings prompt in 2009.  I've been thinking about art, and some projects I started but never returned to.  Springtime makes me think of painting, creating, renewal... 

Art
Pencils, pens
Paint, charcoals, watercolors
Brushes, palettes, canvas, paper
Putting imagination to work
Bringing the unseen to life
Recreating what is seen
Visual, visceral, vague
Yet defined
Art


copyright February 2009 - ajj

#313 Sunday Scribblings - Reflect

In preparation for National Poetry Month, I've been going through some of my old poems.  I'm participating in NaBloPoMo (see sidebar link), and also Sunday Scribblings.  The prompt is Reflect.  The word doesn't appear in this piece, but I feel like it ties in with the theme.  It was written during a time of reflection and healing in my life.   I hope you enjoy reading it.

The Long, Dark Hour

A. J. Jahner

Did you know

When you slipped into her room, in the heavy darkness

That weighed down like an old, stale wool blanket,

Till a breath could not be taken.

Did you know

When your hands crept in to touch the secret places,

Terrified eyes pooled with tears,

And silent screams filled the throat.

Did you know

When mocking voice, while telling lies, shattered and

Scattered round the room, her thin, glass sheet of confidence in pieces,

And sweeping them, they disappeared.

Did you know

That over time, the shifting boards revealed the shards

Long buried; and though broken, and undefined,

Created a picture in her mind.

Did you know

It rises to the surface in raging waves of anger, exposing the heart

Of who she was, or might have been, before the darkness

And the fear betrayed her.

Did you know

She walked in shadow life, appearances deceitful, a smiling face

With vacant eyes, and now the gaping scars reveal

A wounded child, no longer hiding.

Did you know

She searches for the answers still, for innocence breached, betrayed

By trusted hands, who held the power, but by choice

Redefined a life, in that long, dark hour.

© 10MAY2008 ajjahner

Life takes us through many experiences, along many journeys.  not all are sweet.  Some define who we become, but we can choose how it will define us.  It's what we make of it, that makes all the difference. 

April is Poetry Month

I am tired and uninspired, so I'll just share a poem I love...

 

Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?

Shel Silverstein