Reflections of Terror and Beauty

Category: Poetry

  • Suttle Lake; a poem

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    by

    J
    in

    Four footprints chasing lake’s rim  . You and me – strolling along but not quite in stride . My quicker cadence of little feet and dusty knees . Our footprints together as if we were home . You and me – strolling along but not quite in stride . My cadence steadied, my steps now…

  • Shades of Green; a poem

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    by

    J
    in

    Have you noticed  all the shades of green?  . “Look there,” she would say to make green become more than one color  . Great pines above,  laced ferns below  . Look  and feel her smile  . Do you see the shades  of green?  . To live in a place bursting with life . The small…

  • 100 rainbows

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    by

    J
    in

    My husband and I surfed on a sun-filled day but on a day that the waves still had their winter force. I paddled out past the breakpoint – intimidated by the waves’ heights. I found myself sitting on my board, watching the lines of waves travel towards land. I noticed how the off-shore wind met…

  • Red; a poem

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    by

    J
    in

    I hear red. Vacant words tunneling deep. . I tast red. Sour truths lingering still. . I see red. Piercing cuts remaining raw. . Remember red. Flogs unjust a silent sky. . Remember red. Freely spilled the crux of life. . Remember red. Once for all sting left behind. In him we have redemption through…

  • tear stained faces; a poem

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    by

    J
    in

    There is a mark of life -rooted green- grown in perfect presence . Our tears will soon be gone . That defying choice -dividing flames to death- this is not our end . Our tears will soon be gone . A mark of grace -innocence on a tree- forever paid our redemption . Our tears…

  • White Water; a poem

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    by

    J
    in

      Soul, tumbling under treacherous tides striving for still waters.   Uncertainty undermining rest – searching for knowledge; release from white water.   No one can escape the end. The rich receive rainfall and rough winds as certainly as societies’ contemptible. And still the honest receive the same storm as these.   Searching for still…

  • all things new

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    by

    J
    in

    “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” – Sidney Greidanus The paradox of this line reverberates a truth I see too much as a nurse. The more patients we admit, treat, and discharge, the more I realize that we are in a perpetual cycle. More CHF, more pneumonia, more re-admissions. With new…

  • Beauty and Terror; a poem

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    by

    J
    in

    Beauty and Terror   All that is can error That which captivates most May bring terror   Wood wrapped in incandescent flames Reminiscent of Your Father’s name   Removed from willful refrain Yellow may devour Energy unrestrained   Fire, you’re beauty and terror   All that is can error That which captivates most May bring…