Pirate ….door left open

He is a pirate
down in his soul
born two hundred years
too late

doesn’t matter
all that much
since he still lives
in wonder
anyways

He looks for treasures
in all kinds of places
flirts with women
of all ages and races
falls in love
despite his best intentions

It’s not such a deep
dark secret
how much he loves
the ocean
scotch, vodka and wine
a good rum
and a circle of friends

He walks with a swagger
of a man that knows
full well
he’s being watched
and he doesn’t care

he’s a pirate
down in his soul
born just in time
to make you wonder

what he would do
if he was given
half a chance
to set sail
again.

๐Ÿท๐Ÿ˜‰Jeanna’ Mead
5 37 a.m. 12-11-17

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

๐ŸŽถ ๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ‘ฃhttps://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1E9KFFRpXPpB3U?si=49FL322MTFGXPRXI8AcrmA

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.

Trick And Treat

๐Ÿ‘ฃ๐Ÿ’— Inspired by Paulo Coelho: “It is easy to be a hater. Go for the difficult task: be a lover.”

There’s a trick

she’s still learning 

the hard way

But years ago, she wrote

a simple prayer in a poem

” Let my heart be broken

torn into pieces

bring me to my knees

Let my heart be open”

And now she sees 

quite clearly

that she wouldn’t do it

any other way

she’ll still choose to love

when it’ll be easier to turn away

she’ll still treat others

as if she’ll be treated the same

she’ll still hold open

the doors and the invitation

although it’s been closed on her

many times before

She’ll still choose

to let her heart be broken

than to regret the chance

She’ll still go forward

though others hold back

It’s a trick

she’s learning

 the hard way

But she can’t be any different

since she had asked.after all.

to let her heart be broken

torn into pieces

and filled up

patched well

etched and engraved

with love.

..
Jeanna’ Mead

11 01. 10/31/17

http://www.jeannasoul.com