the night of the lightning

The witness trees heal their scars at the flesh fire 

The dogs were brittle and they broke quite easily     the men 

stacked them like wood to make a bonfire     gasoline 

was poured on their bodies and one man lit a match 

stink and smoke    fur and flesh     the sweat of many men 

and one by one they leaned close to the flames to pray

james lee jobe 

-the title is a line from galway kinnell's poem 'the path among the stones"

True compassion just does what needs to be done because it’s the only thing to do—just because it’s natural and ordinary, like smoothing your pillow at night.

Roshi Joan Halifax

What ancient night does a man touch with his senses

The night where the lessons were skipped 

and the damn rules were ignored 

the night when the ocean walked across the earth 

and the earth spun in circles ever faster 

the night when your pain was so immense 

that you chose not to continue 

the night when dogs became men and men became goats 

and there was much barking and bleating 

and many foolish things were said 

the night of the volcano     the night of the lightning 

the night of the river of rage and torment 

life     cursed at times it seems 

but also blessed 

life with it's curves like a woman 

and you want to hold her 

life     the van gogh of existence 

the picasso of breath and heartbeat 

life     a gift in and of itself 

come     I will hold you 

and we will breathe together 

wait here with me until the moon sets 

and the new sun rises 

see     now I am touching your face 

now the hard moment has passed 

and what remains 

we do     we remain 

james lee jobe 

 -the title is a line by pablo neruda, sonnet XII

link: Anthills, a poem by Kayla “AluTru” Steward

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james