All posts by joanmyles

About joanmyles

Poet. Writer. Check out my blog at www.JewniquelyMyself.com

Proofs

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Proofs

*from One With Willows, copyright 2019 by Joan Myles*

Past the grip of fisted darkness

We have come again, again.

Past an empty-pantry starkness

We have come.

Past the angry kick of ceilings,

We have come again, again.

Past sagging psalms and ragged feelings

We have come.

Past the oven’s gaping,

Twisted sense of pain-escaping

Words like parachutes come falling

Into consciousness, recalling

Former triumphs of the spirit—

Life embraces, draws us near It,

Declares us in Its Love decree,

Je suis, I am, je suis.

primitives

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primitives

after spending

three days shivering

inside a tent counting

the distance between sword-

flash

and echoing hoof-beats

after wondering whether a roof

can ever again be water-proof

suddenly robins

winged emissaries

promises of reconciliation

and the sun appears

glorious

as a god

Why Tuesday = Bliss

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*Reposting this sweet memory as I continue to social distance from friends and family, and even CC.

*sigh*

But our conversations are sweetly regular, and all CC has taught me keeps me moving…I’m up to 150 sit-ups each morning thanks to yoga. And I did conquer the dreaded camel just after the original post.

Stay safe, and keep moving, my Darlings!*

Jewniquely Myself

Well, it’s Tuesday again. So, like every Tuesday for the past six months, I shower, put on my yoga duds, and wait for my daughter Colleen to arrive.

When she does, we make a pot of fresh coffee and spend time chatting about the week’s happenings:

-Her husband has an interview for a better job.
-She found the greatest vegan cookbook, so we should come for dinner next week. -Her neighbor’s rooster got out again and kept all the dogs barking last night.

Then we get down to work.

“And this week, it’s your turn to lead, Mom,” she reminds me.

oh boy, I whisper to myself.

I pull my purple yoga mat out from under a livingroom endtable, unroll it, and scramble around for a moment looking for my yoga strap.

Good grief, I muse, who would have thought I’d be doing something like this?

It’s been six months…

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