Red

 Dazzled and Reflective


I read a poem

the other day

sent to me by a far away friend

and the words etched themselves

into my heart

let me be dazzled, absolutely dazzled and then reflective

by the beauty of the things I see

the tiny fireflies lighting up my sky

the big brown eyes that twinkle

with sheer delight

even the blackberry thorns

that catch me by surprise

dazzle my ears

with the sweet sound of laughter

the rich voice of a man

that sings just for me to hear

the melody of the birds

way up in the trees

and the whispers I can feel

against my cheek

dazzle my heart

with the goodness I keep finding

scattered in the most unlikely places

love that crosses miles and reaches across boundaries

dazzle me with the way

things taste

chocolates melting on my tongue

the Americano in my cup

a well cooked meal

margaritas and wine

dazzle my senses

the calloused hand in mine

vibrations on an old wood floor

soft as silk baby skin

hugs so tight I almost can’t breathe

by the music’s rhythm

 that makes me move in unison

and the way I feel

when my hands glide down

someone else

finally be held

feel myself exhale 

at long last

let me be dazzled

and then reflective

just like the poem

that my far away friend sent

❤Jeanna’ Mead

7 03 a.m.  1-29-18

http://www.jeannasoul.com

For Joshua and Bubbie 💗👣

Glow

If only I could see me

the way you see me

everything would be different
I keep the lights on

because the darkness

hides your lips

and I can’t, 

for the life of me,

 understand a word you say
But the same light 

that lets me see

to read

shows everything 

I wish I could keep

hidden in the dark
You see my imperfections

the scars on my body

the way time hasn’t

always been so kind
it’s a double edged sword

a battle that I fight

day in and night out

trying so damn hard

to see beauty in the ages

embrace the changes

to keep on dancing

with all the broken pieces

to glow in the light

and not hide in the dark
I look in the mirror

remembering so well

when the reflection

showed a different woman

a different time
if I could only see me

the way you see me

everything would be

so different
I would look beyond

the imperfections 

straight to the heart

of the matter
and I just might be able

to glow in the dark

from the light in your eyes
💗Jeanna’ Mead

6 25 a.m. 12-10-17

http://www.jeannasoul.com

Music of Life

She looked at what it had to say

shaking her head

as she knew full well

the memories it would bring

of times gone by

heart to heart

kindred spirits

laughter shared

walks and talks 

early morning texts

late night replies

beautiful exchanges

some gone

others remain

choices made

that changed everything

and it’s all in the songs

lyrics she had never heard

bands she hadn’t known

the music plays on

and she dances

as she reads the words

feels the vibrations

does her work

vows to her heart

that she won’t be

anything less than

the brown eyed girl

in the song that plays

again and again

She’ll keep right on

living her life

being the Wild One

playing the songs

that take her down

the ragged edge 

of pleasure and pain

that the music brings

🎶 💗👣https://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1E9KFFRpXPpB3U?si=49FL322MTFGXPRXI8AcrmA

Paulo and Me

Someday, we’ll forget the hurt, the reason we cried and who caused us pain..
And we’lll finally realize that the secret of being free is not revenge, but letting things unfold in their own way and own time.

PAULO COELHO

Someday we will remember
the goodness that came.
the beauty that had faded
the feelings we shared
and someday we’ll be grateful
even a bit amazed
that we were so very quick
to only see the bad
when there was good
in between
along the ragged edge.

Jeanna Mead
701 p.m. 11-27-17

https://t.co/KbNGVJEVkI

Roses and Thorns

A person that plants thorns, must never expect to gather roses.           -Paulo Coelho

I read this and sat outside on my patio, pondering the wisdom of these words as I looked at the garden filled with flowers and green plants,and tall trees that are losing their leaves.

There’s a chapter in Paulo’s book,The Spy, where the mother gives her daughter a package of flower seeds and tells her to carry these seeds so they will remind her of who she is and where she’s from. 

The mother says to her daughter, “These are seeds of tulips, they will only bloom into tulips. The seeds you plant will not change into another type of flowers.”

There it is. Simple as that.

What you plant, is what will bloom. 

Or at least, that’s the way it works in the garden and the yard.

 I dig up wayward trees that are growing in cracks and even in the gutters of my studio, and I replant them where I believe they will grow deep roots and become tall, beautiful trees that offer shade and shelter.

I buy clearance plants from Lowe’s- bedraggled, pitiful, little things and I plant them and I nurture them fully expecting them to thrive and bloom…and they do. 

That’s another lesson from my Mema, who would tell me over and over, “Don’t give up…the tiniest little root is all it takes. You just gotta pour love on it.”

This is how people are,too, but sometimes you can plant roses and tend to the roses as they grow and bloom, only to find out that others look at the beautiful roses and only see the thorns.

They may breathe in the scent of the roses, understand the time and work put into establishing the roots, nurturing the soil, making sure it receives plenty of sun and water and is encouraged to grow, but instead of focusing on the beauty, they point out the thorns.

“These thorns can cut. They might leave a mark or even a scar. You could get caught in those thorns and they will rip through you. There’s just too many thorns here.”

Never mind the intoxicating scent. Never mind the way the roses add beauty and color to the garden. Never mind how the roses climb along the bricks, offering shelter and privacy.

All they can see is the thorns.

I think that’s one reason I don’t really like roses. I always think of roses as high maintenance flowers. They are beautiful but they require pulling on gloves that reach to my elbows, using special tools, wearing shoes and tip toeing around as I work.

I’m the kind of woman that likes to reach into the garden with my bare hands, picking off dead leaves, pulling up weeds, digging holes and laying in plants without giving any thought to thorns that might cut me. 

I prefer to stand with my feet in the soil, turning stones over with my toes, wiggling down and using my body as a tool instead of looking for something that might make it easier, but won’t feel as good.

I may be “good and sore” as my Mema would say at the end of the day, but there’s just something special about the feeling of good, simple, hard work that you can feel and see.

That’s so much like the relationships we have. Sometimes we plant roses, and get distracted by the thorns. Sometimes it’s because others point those out to us.

Sometimes we plant yellow tulips and to our delight, find that a single red one somehow got mixed in the package and bloomed- making the garden even more beautiful.

Sometimes we plant flowers in pots and find that a tree has taken root in the fertile soil   and we know that, in order for it to really reach it”s full potential, we must transplant it out of the confined pot and into a place where it won’t be limited.

Sometimes we have to sit back in a rocking chair and wait and watch for the seasons to change, the roots to get established and the time to be right for the beauty to grow, show up and ssurprise us.

Just remember…anything can grow if you pour on the love and attention….and you can grow beauty or only thorns….it’s all in your hands and in the way you choose to look at the garden of life.