birds in flight

 stubby little bodies

dark against the misted sky

wings laboring from each shoulder

while gulls glide behind, then pass them

sharp-beaked and slender

parting more than fighting

the dense air with long wings

lifting gracefully at elbow

                        mjNordgren  1/18/2023  Blue House

tangled roots

 untangle the roots

of the blackberry vines

and find interminable

inter-relationships

too many to allow

for annihilation

untangle the roots

of human civilization

and find it is the inter-relationships

that lend us strength

against annihilation

taken but unsaved

albums of photos of the children

grinning, growing, going their own way

even a few of the grands posing

for the camera

even when it’s out of film

but electronic has taken over

and images are piled in my phone

and moldering in my computer

while, digitally ignorant,

i’ve no idea how to organize or save

catabatic wind

 as earth rotates and sun ‘sets’

night cools mountain-tops

slopes chill the air above their ice

thin molecules huddle, dense

heavier and heavier until, catabatic

they gain speed and strength

from gravity and plunge down

disturbing precarious layers

of snow, triggering avalanche

when white is all you see

 when white is all you see

it could be purity

or snow

or fog

or simply that you’re lost

within yourself

without the darkness

that terrifies

it could be

time to reflect

on what matters best

to pledge to orient

to something larger than yourself

that may know more

poem only template (Copy) (Copy)

awesome chandelier

 wondering why i didn’t buy

the Venetian glass chandelier

that so gave me awe and raw desire

first, with failing ears,

i did not hear the offer to include

my long-stemmed glasses free

second, i could not get three

life-long concern always to treat

my three kids as close to equally

as humanly possible, how could i

have only one such treasure

in my home that might cause hurt

between them? their love for each other

is more valuable to me than all

the ‘boughten’ things I could

ever purchase

Sistine

 the Sistine chapel is lined with pews

overwhelmed, we sit

struggling to breathe

look down to pray for strength

to lift our heads to gape, to scan

to try to take in rich colors, human

forms, human motives and actions

divine presence watching with dismay

our petty hubris, undeserving

of the Lord of all life’s

reaching out

dream as warning?

 dream scenes unsettle

so haunt our awakening

fearful, we wonder

vulnerable hearing

 i am so open when i listen

my being seeps in between

the words, hears, and is changed

at times that is all that is needed

for the speaker hears self  and knows

from within who is and what must be

others wallow in the unjust, the pain

is for spreading in guise of compassion

i cannot listen – i turn away to heal

new novel opening - please comment

 “Even before the Great Depression, Boonetown of southwest Missouri had been ripe with rolling hills; stolid farmers; painfully watered crops and garden rows; paint-peeling houses, barns and wood-slat sheds; a single-track right-of-way through the center of town and rut-paved main street with few commercial concerns. All now were baked to a dull beige-gray in the August heat. And, beneath that coated surface, stolid farmers writhed in discontent, frustration, fear and hatred for what the past had dealt and the future had barely promised and now in 1940, threatened.”

Is this too stark? If you opened my new novel before i’d be, and this was the beginning, would you keep reading? Any suggestions? I would so appreciate hearing from you. Thx, mj

kah’s birthday dawn

 glorious oranges, deep pinks

hovered over by purple clouds

today’s sunrise is the strongest

of the year thus far

and beyond my poor ability to paint

golden sol shouting happy birthday

without a word – only being

january, too, will pass

after seven and still pre-dawn

january whispers and howls

its own dark way

but days will grow shorter

frail green stalks will lift

from under soil to begin again

the cycles of determined life

that sustain us without praise

first of the year sunrise

 pale orange and muted gold

streak and tinge aqua morning

as purple-blue storm clouds

loom over eastern hills

and silhouetted Mt. Hood

noisy, but still unnoticed

 fireworks, noise, splendor

but the new year

like progress itself

slips in so quietly

it is barely noticed

bit by bit, task by task

until we are startled

to see what change has happened

while we busy

doing something else

                        mjNordgren  1/1/2023  N

new year vow

 new beginnings – arbitrary

fresh vows we know we won’t keep

but every year we say we will

what if we picked one thing we truly want

and pasted it on the wall above our workplace

and designed steps, small steps that might get us there – or close

each week to work on a tiny step with that goal in mind

or forgotten in the busy-ness of life

only concentrating on one of the steps we’d designed

until we end up with our goal in sight

ahh, it would really be a happy new year then

my children are my friends

my children are my friends

adults who listen

even when i stammer

who guide my steps when i stumble

who forgive when i falter

who chuckle when i command

but listen and talk things over with me

who love despite my shortcomings

how could i ever ask more?

wind-whispered promise

 despite the cold

that burrows under the skin

to gnaw at the marrow

in my bones

the wind that lifts

and swirls sparkling flakes

tells me the snow will cling

to the mountains

and, in the spring, melt

as water for crops

a gift longer-term

and worth my shivering

            mjNordgren  12/26/2022  Omaha

random interactions

random interactions

like brownian movement

but an illusion as each participant

has a goal – somewhere to go

each jostles another, and another

pushed, shoved, knocked

out of alignment into a different route

randomly dislocated, delayed

within the sun, photons may take

millions of years to emerge to shine

from sol’s surface

or at airports, travelers lose minutes, hours, getting to the long lines to be

cabined, cribbed, confined by zigzag

tape to inch forward, wait, inch forward

to be checked by customs before being

spilled into the chaos beyond

and the lines shuffling onto the plane

to get home for Christmas with family

purpose, but, being part of a multitudinous whole, finding

no direct way to fulfill that purpose

                        mjNordgren  12/25/2022  Omaha

pieta

twenty-two-year-old sculpts marble

drapes folds, forms, features

in the agony of surviving

love and loss that weeps in souls

in generation after generation