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Making Sense

Long ago, she had been told

Southern rules

That “good” girls follow

Never mix silver and gold

Don’t wear black with brown

Heaven forbid if you get caught wearing white before Easter or after Labour Day

It just isn’t done that way

Make sure you get as good as you give

Love only the “right” one

at the “right” time

Build your walls high

 Keep your hems low

Don’t forget if you forgive

And ladies don’t drink beer from a can



Yet this morning

She laughed, once again, at the reflection in the mirror


Slid her feet into brown leather sandals

Buttoned the short black dress

Just in case the wind lifted the hem, she worn her salsa drawers

Layered her bracelets

One by one

And the stone necklace that she never went without

She had decided

Long ago

To make her own 

Set of rules

Live her life

Whether anyone understood or not

She forgot when she forgave

Drank margaritas, sweet wine and Blood Honey beer

Every chance she got

She fell in love

One by one

Over and over

Day in and day out

Built a wall of mystery

Lined it with peace

Gathered kindred spirits

Planted roots

So that good things could bloom

Found God in every place

Gave all she could

Received what she was given

After all…it was the only way

That made sense to her

Long ago



7 08 a.m.  3/28/17

Www.jeannasoul.com








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SO FAR

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UNLESS

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She Remembers

Sometimes, only a few lines are more than enough. 

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STAY

$TAY

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KEEPER

I’m a keeper 

Of well worn boots 

Resoled

Again and again

Of Levi jeans

Frayed and holey

Almost white 

With wear

Of tattered letters

Books marked

Underlined

Scribbled in

Of tiny imps

Filled with

Intoxicating scents

Of odd pitchers

Found at

Flea markets

Filled up 

Wildflowers

Sweet tea 

Lemonade

Of memories

Old and those

Waiting to

Be made

Written in May 2015.  
It is time. 

RETDS

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Forgotten

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Touch

She figured it would be

just a bite to eat

a drink or two

Skim the surface

Like most people do

She didn’t expect

To be heard

Get her soul fed

Thirst quenched.

Hand held

She should have figured.

She would be

Touched.

Jeanna’ Mead

1 33 – 3/15/17

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Take Me There

“Take me there.”

…most people just say “It was amazing!” or “I had a great time.” and ” It was really nice.”…etc

But , then, there are the ones that can literally take me wherever they are because they use words in such descriptive ways that I, too, can feel the pounding of their heart as they skied down the slope, crashing into the snow and catching the eye of their daughter……I can almost hear the stories shared around the fireplace as glasses.of wine are refilled again and again. I can feel the energy of.the day that eased into a night of simple pleasures.

I was taken to the front rows of an spectacular performance, where grace and strength, talent and skill kept the audience on the edge of their seats.  I sat on my chaise, miles away….. transfixed and almost able to taste the energy of the place. 

I was taken to the bar where soldiers sang karaoke, celebrating a milestone birthday…..and to the reservation where a man received a life changing massage which lead him to become a therapist, too. 

I have tasted delicious food in Austin……and have never been to the restaurant. I’ve sipped coffee at a French cafe….but I’ve never been overseas.

I felt the people walk past me, smelled the hot dogs on the corners and yet I’ve never been to Chicago.

I laid on the floor and watched a baby squeal and kick and play from hundreds of miles away.
It’s all in the way you use your words, in the pictures you create, in the things you choose to share.

“Take me there ” really means to let me be part of what you feel, let me know you and, then, maybe we’ll take each other there.