No foolin’
it’s National Poetry Month!

So I’ll be featuring poems from
*One with Willows*
as well as some of my favorite
famous and not-famous-yet poets.

Poetry

poetry
cracks the air
splinters
the eggshell of dreams
holds its breath
counting
a skip and a hop
a giggle
and a wink
singing
the unspoken soul
into the world

{tags poetry, poets, one with willows, national poetry month, april}

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 now, six months of Tuesdays. Six months of bending and stretching, reaching and , let’s face it, moaning and groaning

“Okay, class,” I take my position sitting cross-legged on my mat, “first we’ll do some stretching. Extend your legs, and as you lie down, bring them up…and down, ever so slowly…use your strap for guidance only…that’s it…,” my teacher’s voice trails away as my body goes through the motions I describe.

“Hey, you’re doing pretty well,” Colleen says with a smile in her voice.

We spend more time with guided stretching, then, I move us into cat-cows, downward dogs, cobras, three-legged dogs, pigeons, and finally I’m ready for the dreaded camel.

“You want to see it again?” Colleen offers as she gets into the kneeling start position on her mat.

“I think I’d better.”

She leans backward, sloly, in one smooth motion as I rest my hand on her shoulder. She moves my other hand to her back, where I observe her graceful bend, then she reaches back with both hands, and clasps her feet behind her.

I sigh in awe of her flexibility.

“Your turn”, she laughs.

I take my position, let out a deep breath, and begin easing my way backward…one piece, I think, one piece. Then I bend my back, ease my shoulders downward and look up toward the ceiling.

“You’re doing it, almost there!” Colleen cheers me on.

I snap back up again.

“Just too chicken,” I declare.

“You were so close,” she hugs me and we both take our places in the corpse position, the final pose of the session. “You’ll get it next time I bet.”

“We’ll see,” I sigh, simply relieved to have made it through another session alive.

“So close with your camel, Mom, and you led a very nice 30-minute session. I’m so proud at how much you can do.”

I close my eyes with gratitude. That’s all I need, I sigh. pigeons and camels will come and go, but spending time with my daughter, hearing her cheer me on, and declare she’s proud of my efforts…pure bliss!

Finally, dear Friends, I am able to let you know that my little book of poems *One with Willows*
is available
***
Here is an informal review by author, Anne Chiappetta:

One with Willows
© 2019
by Joan Myles

The willow tree symbolizes learning, growth and harmony. This first collection brings forth these ideas and grounds them with insight, wonder, and hope.
Whimsical at first. At some point you feel the solemnness, the spiritual rapture within the words. Simple things speak volumes, like the sunrise, the beauty of the ruby hummingbird. Many poems also harness a depth of a quest for understanding. For example, the seeker in “Hide and Seek” means more than a child’s game, implies adults play a game with hearts and faith in a context of lost innocence. Themes touch upon one another – just as the bowed branches of the willow touches upon earth or water or rustled by the wind.
Mundane objects take on the meaningful and powerful in all these balanced and ephemeral pieces. Each is like a prayer or psalm, reverent and purposeful.

Messenger is a message of hope.
At the table pulls at the mom in me. “Frost Comes is a beautiful piece full of the cadences of things to come.
Joan, thank you for sharing these pieces of your heart and spirit. Blessings,
Annie
***
You can find One with Willows at the following:

One with Willows
Print:
https://www.amazon.com/One-Willows-Joan-Myles/dp/1798675196/ref=mp_s_a_1_fkmrnull_2?keywords=one+with+willows+joan+Myles&qid=1553451379&s=gateway&sr=8-2-fkmrnull

Kindle:
https://www.amazon.com/One-Willows-Joan-Myles-ebook/dp/B07PVQFX4V/ref=mp_s_a_1_fkmrnull_1?keywords=one+with+willows+joan+Myles&qid=1553451473&s=gateway&sr=8-1-fkmrnull –

smashwords

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/929617

***
And please let me know your thoughts!
Blessings and sweetness to you all

Publishing Day

Here it is,finally, at last …Publishing Day!

And for a blind author *love that word…and poet, too* like me, it means scheduling with my Team of agreeable and mostly-skilled sighted assistants to push through, to jump the final electronic hoops to the end…to the point where you, my darling readers, are able to access your very own copy of my work.

But it also means remaining patient and open minded…even somewhat resigned to the idea of not quite making the goal.

*sigh*

Because that’s how it is when you are blind, or disabled, or simply somewhat dependent on someone else…a volunteer, no less, who happens to be a person you value and love.

**Projects come and go…even amazing one-of-a-kind projects like self-publishing a book…but loved ones need to be cherished, and relationships honored…and besides, you catch more flies with honey, right?

So, darling friends, I am not quite ready , the links are not quite ready, but should be in another couple of days.

Please stand by.

You Live*You Learn*You Love*You Learn*You Love some more

Dear Friends,

Yes, friends. Before I say more, I want to thank you for that…for being my friends. You continue to follow and read my posts, you share your own thoughtful remarks and encouragement, you delight me with your affection and company…and I am so very, very grateful!

You have coaxed me out of myself, into the sweetness of dawn, where dewy meadows glisten with freshness, and the promise of full sun beckons. And I have no words, only the sweet sensation of feeling your presence with me as I write. And I feel so privileged.

So if I now invite you to join me in a dance of joy, I hope you will feel your part in my swaying and singing!
Because my little book of poems, One with Willows, is coming out on Wednesday, March 20!

I hope you’ll add it to your poetry collection, and let me know your thoughts as always…friend to friend!

Description of One with Willows:

One With Willows is a collection of spiritually playful poems which invites you to step out of the everyday world, to catch your breath, even to catch a glimpse of what really is. There is magic in light that turns hummingbirds into rubies. Wonder and delight wait for you in a garden, bid you to sit beside a young child at the piano, and may even lead you to stumble upon holiness where you least expect to find it.

You will want One With Willows on your bookshelf when you need a friendly reminder that things can get better. It will sit with you on the edge of the bed when you are weary, and revive your sense of hope when you need a boost.

Joan Myles has always been a child of wonder as well as a spiritual seeker. When she lost her sight at the age of 12, these qualities and writing poetry saved her from despair. And what’s more, once blind, her spiritual seeking took on a deeper, richer dimension. No longer was Divinity somewhere out there, hovering just out of reach. She felt God to be with her, a whisper away, a breath, a sigh, a longing inside her, an expression of wonder and delight and most emphatically, Love.

Joan earned a BA in elementary Education, a Master’s in Jewish Studies, and spent 15 years teaching Hebrew and Judaics to third through 6th graders. During that time, she also founded Yismehu, a non-profit organization which provided free Jewish learning to blind students nationwide via distance learning, and served as both textbook developer and instructor for 7 years.

Joan and her husband raised four children together. They currently live in Oregon, where she continues to delight in the wonders of Life Divine, and in the magic of words.

Robin calls across the way,
“Wake up, my friend,
embrace the day.”

And Sunshine’s dancing, prancing beams
bid me to follow,
dismiss my dreams.

Still one more darling friend I meet
once dressed and walking down the street.
She snatches at my coat and hat,
ruffles my hair–
I don’t like that.

But one thing I can’t fail to mention,
she wakes me up,
grabs my attention,
uplifts my gaze
expands my heart,
and sets me right before we part.

Spring is coming, spring is coming! See? The daffodils have bravely put forth their sunny blooms.

But alas, temperatures in Salem this week have remained chilly to downright freezing.

Sure, the sun itself has timidly peeked through, but sno and sleet mid-week had us asking, “What month is this, anyway?”

**Which brings me to my final guest in this rendition of *Kindling Friendship*. I have deliberately held her to the end, just because of her delightful name, it being so significant to me as a symbol for change, and a signal of hope, transformation, renewal, and yes, even Springtime.

So as Ari barks a cheery response to the doorbell, I eagerly open it wide, and welcome author, Butterfly Thomas.

Me: Greetings, Butterfly, won’t you come in and get warm…brrr, how about a cup of tea or coffee to take the chill off?

Butterfly: Salutations, Joan. I don’t think I’ll have either, maybe just hot water with lemon thank you, and a banana if you have it.

Me: No problem, I’ve got a few beautiful, organically grown bananas right here…shall we stay in the kitchen? Or would you prefer a comfy chair as we chat?

Butterfly: A comfy chair all the way.

Me: Okay…Mmmmm this lemon ginger tea is especially tasty today…so Butterfly, won’t you tell me a little about yourself?

Butterfly: I never really know how to answer this, how much or little to tell. I am in my 30’s, I have 2 children, and I am divorced. I work as a Counselor and Advocate, but I don’t love it as much as I love reading and creative writing. Those are the basics I guess.

Me: And where do you live?

Butterfly: I live in the finicky state of Virginia. I was born in Germany to military parents. We came back to their home state, Virginia, when I was a toddler, and been here ever since.

Me: Is your writing influenced by where you live?

Butterfly: I don’t think so, I think it is influenced greatly by what I’m reading.

Me: And what about your writing process? Can you describe it for me?

Butterfly: Hmm, my writing process? Well I like to write mostly in the early morning hours… I don’t have an inspirational place to right though and I mostly write when the mood hits or when I have a particularly intense emotion I need to express. May I read a poem I wrote almost 3 years ago that explains why I write?

Me: Yes, please do.

Butterfly: It’s called ”Poetry”

Poetry Is A…
Powerful tool that allows me to lament or rejoice
Original works from my heart that urge me to
Express ideas, thoughts, points of view, alternate perspectives that display my Talent for word play and the contentment I get from
Releasing my feelings and emotions in such a way that
You can feel me

Me: Very nice. I especially like the final words, “you can feel me”. I think that says it all…you, the poet, are directly accessible through your words of poetry. Thank you, that was lovely. Now, are you up for a few quirkier questions? What other kind of living thing would you like to be?

Butterfly: Any other living thing, well the butterfly of course because of the natural symbol of transformation and the reason I have my name…Or the black panther, because of its sleek fierce raw power

Me: Do you have a favorite punctuation mark?

Butterfly: My favorite punctuation mark is the comma, because I never know if I’m
using it right lol

Me: And now tell me more about your writing, won’t you?

Butterfly: So far, I have written an urban thriller called Head Held High and I am working on compiling my poetry into a book. I have an idea for an urban fantasy novel, but I am currently attempting to flesh out a short short story I wrote that sparked the idea. You can check out my self-published novel at
https://www.dldbooks.com/bthomas/
And follow me on twitter
@ButterflyTNovel

Mea: well, thank you so much for chatting with me this afternoon, Butterfly, it has been a delight.

She draws her coat collar up around her ears, we exchange one more hug, and she slips outside into the gathering darkness. A mix of misty rain and light snowflakes moistens my face as I bid her one more good-bye.

Then the door shuts against the weather, against the week’s labors, against all things unessential. Shabbot is at hand.

I find the candlelighter, flick one flame onto its wick, then the second, and ready my thoughts for the blessing. My eyes close automatically as my hands draw candlelight first toward me, then circle it round to embrace loved ones and friends, and finally, the world’s inhabitants.

I sigh. Spring will come, I thought, in fact it is already on its way. In the meantime I will accept the gift of its emissaries—the sprouting of daffodils, and a young woman named Butterfly.

And I whisper:

Blessed are you Beloved One, Source of All, Breath Divine, Whose Light sustains us, Whose Darkness draws us near in longing and anticipation.

And let us say:

Amen.