I am from Earth

We have fallen into the place where everything is music.* 

Of course, the light is music 

You already know that 

The sun, the moon, and the stars 

That's easy 

The rivers and seas 

The mountains and valleys 

Lovely music, that 

But friend, I tell you 

That the darkness is music as well 

The shadow side of being alive 

The drunken, angry father is music 

Even as he berates the shrunken wife 

And ruins the children 

The lies of the politicians are music 

The sound of shots being fired in the night 

And you cannot tell how far away 

Or how close 

The earthquake, the killer tornado 

The car crash, the unsuccessful operation 

It's all a balance, all of it 

And one song plays after another 

Like a concert with no program to follow 

So pay attention to the music 

It could verily easily be a short concert 

One never knows 

James Lee Jobe

*The title is a line from Rumi, used here as a prompt.

Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything — anger, anxiety, or possessions — we cannot be free.

Thich Nhat Hanh

People are going back and forth across the door-sill where the two worlds touch.* 

Some people hurry with their heads down, weary 

Their minds occupied, worried with mundane nonsense 

Their hearts are closed like a tavern on election day 

Others never cross the door-sill at all 

Whichever world they are in is their jail cell 

They seldom even glance through the bars on the window 

I say, cross as often as you please, my friend 

This world, that world, pause on either side as you choose 

Have a song, have a dance, love some one 

Let the other world wait while you live it up here 

And by the way, where I said there are two worlds 

Actually, there might be far more worlds than that 

James Lee Jobe

*The title is a line from Rumi, used here as a prompt.

Leaving the City

-by Tu Fu

It's frost-bitter cold, and late, and falling

frost traces my gaze all bottomless skies.

Smoke trails out over distant salt mines.

Snow-covered peaks slant shadows east.

Armies haunt my homeland still, and war

drums throb in this far-off place. A guest

overnight here in this river city, I return 

again to shrieking crows, my old friends.

Only the holder the flag fits into and the wind* 

Countries are a ridiculous thing. 

One country is good, but another one is bad 

Other countries are fine with one problem 

But not so fine with others 

I say phooey 

One world, about two hundred countries 

Should I pray to a flag, a shiny cloth 

Which one, where I was born 

I didn't have any say in where I was born 

A better way is for us all to live 

As if this world is one place, because it is 

Where are you from, friend 

Earth I am from Earth 

Well now, that is something worthy

of my pledge of allegiance  

James Lee Jobe

*The title is a line from Rumi, used here as a prompt.

I’ve woven a parachute out of everything broken.

William Stafford

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James