the wind that whispers to you

It makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.

Rumi

     I'd like to build a castle. To walk my battlements at dawn and go up into the tower to See, the feel of rock beneath my feet. Are my enemies gathering? Hardly. My castle is strong and my walls are thick. Guards! Raise my banner! Let my people know that I am afoot and they are protected. Yes, it would be good to build a castle. Right here. 

James Lee Jobe 

Curtis Mayfield, Move On Up

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Out at dawn with my doggo 

When an owl hoots 

And a woodpecker ratatats at the same time 

So I ask old doggo 

Have you ever heard them like that before 

At the same time 

But doggo doesn't answer 

Just keeps listening 

And watching the pine trees  

James Lee Jobe 

A COTTAGE IN THE WOOD

—Russell Edson (1935-2014)

    He has built himself a cottage in a wood, near where the insect rubs its wings in song.     

    Yet, without measure, or a proper sense of scale, he has made the cottage too small.  He realizes this when only his hand will fit through the door.          

    He tries the stairs to the second floor with his fingers, but his arm wedges in the entrance. 

    He wonders how he shall cook his dinner.  He might get his fingers through the kitchen window, but even so, the stove’s too tiny to cook enough food; the pots are like thimbles and bottle caps.

    He shall also lie unsheltered in the night, even though a tiny bed, with its covers turned down, waits for him in the cottage.

    He curls himself around the cottage, listening to the insect that rubs its wings in a song . . .

Even at night, roses

Roses in starlight, moonlight

Roses standing upright in the dark

Come morning, we will rise

And love them

Then we will love ourselves

James Lee Jobe

Be melting snow. Wash yourself of yourself.

Rumi 

From HAIR, Let The Sun Shine In

     Love comes from love, life comes from life. Looking up, by chance, at just the right moment to see the red tail hawk disappear behind the stand of valley oaks.

James Lee Jobe 

LINK: So Many Books, So Little Time, a poem by HAKI R. MADHUBUTI

Before you speak, stop, breathe, and consider if what you are about to say will improve upon the silence.

Allan Lokos

LINK: from the “Khamriyyah,” a poem by Ibn al-Fāriḍ

     A late night wind whispers prayers that you scribble down and save. 

James Lee Jobe 

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james