A woman once fell upon the snow,
Her heart asking the sky for answers.
The lake spread out in silence
As trees framed each question.
Every part of her surroundings
Accepted her, unconditional.
The sky watched her make angels
In the soft keeping snow.
The tops of the trees shushed her
With a lullaby of pine needles.
The path beside her feet
Asked nothing of her.
And the rock at her back
Kept vigil all the while.
There is a place in the deep woods
That will hold the memory of
The falling of a woman
On the snow.
Jenneth Graser
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Fall on the Snow
Labels:
Jenneth Graser,
poetry

Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Cycles that Flow
Rain that falls on the inside of the skin
Hits the roof of the heart
With loud presence.
Gathers in the gutters,
Streams across the walls of flesh
Hitting hard.
Such rain may drive,
Drizzle, splatter, drip
Drench and shower.
The soul may not know
What to do with such a
Downpour.
It is best to allow the rain
To collect in pools of
Reflection.
And to not allow the pools
To dam up
In any way.
Once you have reached a sufficient
Level, you may form
Rivers.
You may flood even,
If you so choose;
Into any place.
It is through rainfall
Heading for the sea of
Eventual evaporation,
That you may once again
Precipitate your way
Into cycles that flow.
Jenneth Graser
Photograph - Hannes Kock, Florian Ortkrass and Briton Stuart Wood - The Rain Room
Hits the roof of the heart
With loud presence.
Gathers in the gutters,
Streams across the walls of flesh
Hitting hard.
Such rain may drive,
Drizzle, splatter, drip
Drench and shower.
The soul may not know
What to do with such a
Downpour.
It is best to allow the rain
To collect in pools of
Reflection.
And to not allow the pools
To dam up
In any way.
Once you have reached a sufficient
Level, you may form
Rivers.
You may flood even,
If you so choose;
Into any place.
It is through rainfall
Heading for the sea of
Eventual evaporation,
That you may once again
Precipitate your way
Into cycles that flow.
Jenneth Graser
Photograph - Hannes Kock, Florian Ortkrass and Briton Stuart Wood - The Rain Room
Labels:
Jenneth Graser,
poetry

Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Misfits
Collect your tears from the face of the sky
Clouds do not refrain.
Be with the dew suspended on the leaf
Drip into the river waiting.
Sigh on the highest mountain breeze
Where it is difficult to breathe.
Open a gift with fingers tentative,
As though it is the only gift you may receive.
Grateful thanks may rise with greater thanks
When borne through the ashes.
Be with roots who remember the music of light
In dark places, go deeper.
Live with an egg in its stages,
On a nest of what is to come.
Be with composting fruit on the manure pile;
A steam of matter rises from loss.
Once you were content to smile at flowers -
Now you bury your nose into scent.
Once you were happy to watch from airport windows -
Now you have booked your flight.
Other travellers have made room for your beauty,
Misfits have joined hands in strange peace.
Jenneth Graser
Artist - Moki Mioke
Clouds do not refrain.
Be with the dew suspended on the leaf
Drip into the river waiting.
Sigh on the highest mountain breeze
Where it is difficult to breathe.
Open a gift with fingers tentative,
As though it is the only gift you may receive.
Grateful thanks may rise with greater thanks
When borne through the ashes.
Be with roots who remember the music of light
In dark places, go deeper.
Live with an egg in its stages,
On a nest of what is to come.
Be with composting fruit on the manure pile;
A steam of matter rises from loss.
Once you were content to smile at flowers -
Now you bury your nose into scent.
Once you were happy to watch from airport windows -
Now you have booked your flight.
Other travellers have made room for your beauty,
Misfits have joined hands in strange peace.
Jenneth Graser
Artist - Moki Mioke

Thursday, June 30, 2016
For the Pilgrims
Delight in the barefoot grass between toes.
Dare to be without shoes here,
Where shoes are expected.
Slowly the smiles will find their way
Back to the place they belong.
Peacefully lift your face into the stars -
Go with the swirl of light
Scattered across possibility.
Every dream is striking the matchbox
And lighting candles
For the pilgrims.
Too many dreams are embers on the path:
See the ones who love, give soft breath
Without expectation.
Every dream glows
Until the feeding of the fire
Ignites the night.
All things will once again
Feel like they are bound to happen
With grace.
All things will once again feel
Like they are
Possible.
Jenneth Graser
Painting "Ascension" J. Kirk Richards
Dare to be without shoes here,
Where shoes are expected.
Slowly the smiles will find their way
Back to the place they belong.
Peacefully lift your face into the stars -
Go with the swirl of light
Scattered across possibility.
Every dream is striking the matchbox
And lighting candles
For the pilgrims.
Too many dreams are embers on the path:
See the ones who love, give soft breath
Without expectation.
Every dream glows
Until the feeding of the fire
Ignites the night.
All things will once again
Feel like they are bound to happen
With grace.
All things will once again feel
Like they are
Possible.
Jenneth Graser
Painting "Ascension" J. Kirk Richards

Friday, June 24, 2016
Rest in the Centre of Things - Five Minute Friday
Under the river, the riverbed
Under the mountain, cavernous rooms.
Under my mind, my heart rests.
Beneath the roots, the water
Under the waterfall, the pool so deep.
Under the sea, great darkness in crevices.
Under my mind, my mouth, my speech
Observations of word and thought.
Under the boat, a rudder.
Beneath the hen, chicks are warmed
Under the feathers, the skin.
Below the clouds, the rain falls.
Beneath the surface of appearances
The reality abides -
Underneath the symptoms, the source.
Under the heart, the Godhead hides
At rest in the centre of things.
At rest in the centre of things.
Jenneth Graser
Under the mountain, cavernous rooms.
Under my mind, my heart rests.
Beneath the roots, the water
Under the waterfall, the pool so deep.
Under the sea, great darkness in crevices.
Under my mind, my mouth, my speech
Observations of word and thought.
Under the boat, a rudder.
Beneath the hen, chicks are warmed
Under the feathers, the skin.
Below the clouds, the rain falls.
Beneath the surface of appearances
The reality abides -
Underneath the symptoms, the source.
Under the heart, the Godhead hides
At rest in the centre of things.
At rest in the centre of things.
Jenneth Graser

Sunday, June 12, 2016
Adrift
On the cusp of the already
and the not as yet,
I am carried on gossamer silken
threads.
High into the thermals, seeds
made for being carried on winds
rise in circular navigation
and I go with it.
I feel gravitation as a memory
and thought as a possible stance,
but Spirit knows what is best
and so I acquiesce.
It has been a tremor
of fluctuating postulations
without getting to grips
with any formula.
A mystery must remain so
until, leaps across time
make conjunctions with reason.
Perhaps a year will take me
to the root of the great oak;
for now I am carried, hushed
across treetops.
For now I am touching base
with the uppermost leaves
at the soles of my feet
and drifting higher.
Then higher again.
Jenneth Graser
and the not as yet,
I am carried on gossamer silken
threads.
High into the thermals, seeds
made for being carried on winds
rise in circular navigation
and I go with it.
I feel gravitation as a memory
and thought as a possible stance,
but Spirit knows what is best
and so I acquiesce.
It has been a tremor
of fluctuating postulations
without getting to grips
with any formula.
A mystery must remain so
until, leaps across time
make conjunctions with reason.
Perhaps a year will take me
to the root of the great oak;
for now I am carried, hushed
across treetops.
For now I am touching base
with the uppermost leaves
at the soles of my feet
and drifting higher.
Then higher again.
Jenneth Graser
Labels:
poetry,
spirituality

Thursday, June 9, 2016
The Wonder of Normal Things
To listen to the breath of the wind
In every word of your being,
Where you wait for me
Alive to the outsideoftime
In the wonder of normal things:
This is what I want.
To be aware,
Notice the light through my petals
Unfold in the soft rain,
Be awake to the gift of now
Listen again and then hear:
This is what I want.
To slow into my breath
And find you there breathing,
Where the kingdom within
Is my friendship of Trinity
To be always and forever one:
This is what I have.
All of my wants become
A part of your wants,
As all of my time
Becomes a part of your time.
I am a child of the dreams you
scatter through the air
into the hearts of every dreamer,
planted.
Jenneth Graser
In every word of your being,
Where you wait for me
Alive to the outsideoftime
In the wonder of normal things:
This is what I want.
To be aware,
Notice the light through my petals
Unfold in the soft rain,
Be awake to the gift of now
Listen again and then hear:
This is what I want.
To slow into my breath
And find you there breathing,
Where the kingdom within
Is my friendship of Trinity
To be always and forever one:
This is what I have.
All of my wants become
A part of your wants,
As all of my time
Becomes a part of your time.
I am a child of the dreams you
scatter through the air
into the hearts of every dreamer,
planted.
Jenneth Graser
Labels:
Five Minute Friday,
poetry,
present moment

Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Tapestry
You feed me threads of colour woven
through the tapestry you have chosen
for my life, there have been choices proffered
and I may freely act on what's been offered.
What will happen if I feed the colour back
in the complete wrong direction, off track?
Scientifically deserted, mathematically absurd
to turn away from equations and the written word.
But I feel loved behind the tapestry, unseen
hands keep feeding colours, it certainly must mean
that there is not so much a right or wrong.
Rather I discover you send me what belongs
for moments such as these, when it comes to me
that my life is not determined by another history.
I must weave the colours given in the way that pleases
and find out for myself who you are to me, Jesus.
Jenneth Graser
through the tapestry you have chosen
for my life, there have been choices proffered
and I may freely act on what's been offered.
What will happen if I feed the colour back
in the complete wrong direction, off track?
Scientifically deserted, mathematically absurd
to turn away from equations and the written word.
But I feel loved behind the tapestry, unseen
hands keep feeding colours, it certainly must mean
that there is not so much a right or wrong.
Rather I discover you send me what belongs
for moments such as these, when it comes to me
that my life is not determined by another history.
I must weave the colours given in the way that pleases
and find out for myself who you are to me, Jesus.
Jenneth Graser
Labels:
poetry,
spirituality

Expectations - Five Minute Friday
What have I discovered along the way?
To have expectations
is a very natural inclination.
But to listen to the voices of each?
I'm choosing to dial down the clamour,
by tuning into the silence -
Of God's expectations.
I am not expected to be anything
other than me.
I find the greatness of love makes room
for surprises and a bended
fork in the road.
I find as I cause what I expect to whisper
away on the four winds,
I feel lighter and less
disappointed.
I feel open to something new about life,
about God, about me.
Let the things I expect:
not define me as much.
Let the ways of life:
be ways of wonder
and trust.
Jenneth Graser
To have expectations
is a very natural inclination.
But to listen to the voices of each?
I'm choosing to dial down the clamour,
by tuning into the silence -
Of God's expectations.
I am not expected to be anything
other than me.
I find the greatness of love makes room
for surprises and a bended
fork in the road.
I find as I cause what I expect to whisper
away on the four winds,
I feel lighter and less
disappointed.
I feel open to something new about life,
about God, about me.
Let the things I expect:
not define me as much.
Let the ways of life:
be ways of wonder
and trust.
Jenneth Graser
Labels:
expectations,
Five Minute Friday,
Jenneth Graser,
poetry

Thursday, May 12, 2016
Preparations for Eternity - in memory of Leaan
The day recorded on the calendar:
When realms meet at the point of death,
What do I wish for then?
When realms meet at the point of death,
What do I wish for then?
People are the gift
Nothing else will carry through -
No ornament, or clutter kept
Or pendant, medal on the wall
No guilty stain, or shadow of regret.
Are words spoken in the libraries of time
Stored for future viewing?
Will I move into forever with a spirit that I grew
And watered, turned towards
The hands of my Great Gardener
For secret rendezvous of hearts combined?
Unfold each lesson from the offerings before me
As a gift from wisdom to be learnt and to be sung.
Build into the spirit, listen for the steps ahead.
Create beauty from the ashes
Allow the stars to touch my soul.
Hold the hands of my dear children,
Breathe into the space life makes
For those who set aside what does not matter.
Look carefully into the eyes of others,
Spend time with the people who are my treasure
Instead of money on what cannot last for long.
Get rid of what can't satisfy,
Be generous to the world at large.
Don't try to always understand what's going on.
Be one with my true self.
Embrace the unknown - mystery must do its work.
Turn over stones to see the smallness there.
Keep on peeling off the scales of all life throws
Massage oils of forgiveness into my heart
Dream and don't give up on dreaming,
Live in the senses of the now.
When it comes time to pass on through, this is what I wish for:
That eternity will not take me by surprise
If I make friends with it
This side.
Jenneth Graser
Sansui vintage Japanese scroll painting, Sage & Pine Tree Mountain
Nothing else will carry through -
No ornament, or clutter kept
Or pendant, medal on the wall
No guilty stain, or shadow of regret.
Are words spoken in the libraries of time
Stored for future viewing?
Will I move into forever with a spirit that I grew
And watered, turned towards
The hands of my Great Gardener
For secret rendezvous of hearts combined?
Unfold each lesson from the offerings before me
As a gift from wisdom to be learnt and to be sung.
Build into the spirit, listen for the steps ahead.
Create beauty from the ashes
Allow the stars to touch my soul.
Hold the hands of my dear children,
Breathe into the space life makes
For those who set aside what does not matter.
Look carefully into the eyes of others,
Spend time with the people who are my treasure
Instead of money on what cannot last for long.
Get rid of what can't satisfy,
Be generous to the world at large.
Don't try to always understand what's going on.
Be one with my true self.
Embrace the unknown - mystery must do its work.
Turn over stones to see the smallness there.
Keep on peeling off the scales of all life throws
Massage oils of forgiveness into my heart
Dream and don't give up on dreaming,
Live in the senses of the now.
When it comes time to pass on through, this is what I wish for:
That eternity will not take me by surprise
If I make friends with it
This side.
Jenneth Graser
Sansui vintage Japanese scroll painting, Sage & Pine Tree Mountain

Monday, May 2, 2016
Dream Dancer
She has taken off the clothes
of borrowed dreams
and stepped into the wardrobe
of colour, texture, drop and line.
Gingerly, she reaches out
for gloves of new purpose
and dares to linger over
jewels, plentiful.
It is time to slip into
delicate intention,
to feel the fabric
fold onto her body warm.
She walks into a night
so close, heaven can be reached
by taking one deep breath.
Her eyes struggle to take
in beauty so extravagant.
She feels the rise
and fall of her garments
and begins to take the first
steps of dreamers dancing
under quilted nights of sequined stars.
She contemplates firework astronomy;
and makes for the road
of those who find their way.
She does not need to ask permission.
Jenneth Graser
Artwork - Christian Schloe
of borrowed dreams
and stepped into the wardrobe
of colour, texture, drop and line.
Gingerly, she reaches out
for gloves of new purpose
and dares to linger over
jewels, plentiful.
It is time to slip into
delicate intention,
to feel the fabric
fold onto her body warm.
She walks into a night
so close, heaven can be reached
by taking one deep breath.
Her eyes struggle to take
in beauty so extravagant.
She feels the rise
and fall of her garments
and begins to take the first
steps of dreamers dancing
under quilted nights of sequined stars.
She contemplates firework astronomy;
and makes for the road
of those who find their way.
She does not need to ask permission.
Jenneth Graser
Artwork - Christian Schloe

Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Ever Unknowing
I wish to have the fragrance of your face
Linger in-between me,
As if I walk through your garden every morning
As if I live with the feel of Heaven
On my creases.
I wish to be one flesh with your life
At ease with the knowing of you
As you draw me magnetic
To the ever knowing
Ever unknowing.
I am awake in the middle of the night
With longing.
It must be that I caught a glimpse
Of your eyes in the dark.
Will you be this close in the morning?
I will be your friend;
I will be here for you when the first bird sings.
I will dip my feet in your river
With the baptism of first light
As the dawn-rise of another world
Blushes the time of mine, with eternity.
It is only a short while...
A blink in the scheme of things.
It is only a short while
Until I breathe you in, until
I breathe you in.
J Graser
Linger in-between me,
As if I walk through your garden every morning
As if I live with the feel of Heaven
On my creases.
I wish to be one flesh with your life
At ease with the knowing of you
As you draw me magnetic
To the ever knowing
Ever unknowing.
I am awake in the middle of the night
With longing.
It must be that I caught a glimpse
Of your eyes in the dark.
Will you be this close in the morning?
I will be your friend;
I will be here for you when the first bird sings.
I will dip my feet in your river
With the baptism of first light
As the dawn-rise of another world
Blushes the time of mine, with eternity.
It is only a short while...
A blink in the scheme of things.
It is only a short while
Until I breathe you in, until
I breathe you in.
J Graser

Friday, January 8, 2016
First Time Feeling - Five Minute Friday
The first time I took a breath in this world
The first time I opened my eyes to see your face
The first time I held an autumn leaf, turning colours as it whirled to the ground
The first time I held your hand
The first time I saw the mountains of snow
And the first time I fell to the snow and made an angel
All that happiness spread out under my body.
The first time I dreamed and woke up remembering what I dreamed about
The first time I baked in the kitchen with Mom and laughed in the flour drifting
The first time we moved over seas and started up a whole new life
The first time I felt my heart twist with my first disappointment
The first time I cried in the rain and let it soak me, through.
The first time I felt your presence touch me so deep I knew you were real
The first time I climbed up the mountain and the sunset colours
Poured over us in the waterfall of clouds, orange, pink, gold.
There is a first time for everything.
And when I woke up this morning, I had that kind of First Time Feeling
That everything that feels old and stale, is going to have a chance
To feel First Time
Again.
The first time I opened my eyes to see your face
The first time I held an autumn leaf, turning colours as it whirled to the ground
The first time I held your hand
The first time I saw the mountains of snow
And the first time I fell to the snow and made an angel
All that happiness spread out under my body.
The first time I dreamed and woke up remembering what I dreamed about
The first time I baked in the kitchen with Mom and laughed in the flour drifting
The first time we moved over seas and started up a whole new life
The first time I felt my heart twist with my first disappointment
The first time I cried in the rain and let it soak me, through.
The first time I felt your presence touch me so deep I knew you were real
The first time I climbed up the mountain and the sunset colours
Poured over us in the waterfall of clouds, orange, pink, gold.
There is a first time for everything.
And when I woke up this morning, I had that kind of First Time Feeling
That everything that feels old and stale, is going to have a chance
To feel First Time
Again.
Labels:
First Time Feeling,
Five Minute Friday,
poetry

Saturday, December 19, 2015
Lean the light of Christ into the heart of the world
On 25 December 2004 my husband Karl and I made our way on
ferry across gleaming waters to the paradise of Langkawi Island in
Malaysia. Christmas on honeymoon, on one
of the most glorious islands of the world!
Little did we know that a mere 24 hours later the world would look so
different for so many when an earthquake hit Sumatra and sent shockwaves in the
form of very disturbed waters, in fact a frightening tsunami rushing towards
the coastlines of many nations.
We
went for a morning walk after breakfast on the morning of the 26 December, to
find a great recession of water and wandered around looking for shells thinking
this was some peculiar island low tide phenomenon. In the bliss of honeymoon, I found myself
totally forgetting the advice of a former geography teacher - to always run in
the opposite direction when you see a strange pulling back of the tides. Then the waves started coming in again from
the right and swirling around toward the left, turning over a jet-ski and
surging under a yacht that managed somehow to stay afloat.

It was then that we decided to rent a motorbike, to move onto
higher terrain and away from the uncertain waters. We rented a bike and headed off, but Karl stopped
along the way to see if we could dry off a poor drenched kitten affected by the
first set of waves. Then Karl panned the
video camera around and we saw a dark wave of water headed towards us. And we could see it was not going to stop at
the shore.
“Get on the bike!”
But we could not see the ignition which was tucked out of
sight as the hotel had started it for us!
“RUN! RUN!!!”
So Karl and I ran a short distance up a curved bridge and
watched as the water surged over the road, and under the bridge upriver, like a
river in flood, but in the wrong direction.
We realised we would have been stuck in the water if we had not stopped
by the side of the road. And then the
sight of the muddy homes filled with water, the wrecked cars and damaged
property. But no loss of life that we
knew of on Langkawi Island. Little did
we know that a couple hundred kilometres north of us in Thailand, people by the
thousands were losing their lives. The
local paper showed the rising toll of deaths, but we remained strangely numb to
the reality of the facts. It was only
when we came back home and watched footage my Dad had recorded for us that the
tears began to flow.

When Christmas time comes with such tragedy, it reminds me
of the reeling shock of recent world events, so close to the celebration of our
Saviour’s birth. This can throw us into
confusion and dismay. We don’t know how
to process the horror of such uncontrollable events.
But the light that shines so brightly through the coming of
Jesus to earth, who was willing to suffer unimaginable pain for us and carry
the sufferings of the world, outweighs the greatest turmoil and puts us into a
place of perspective once again. The
question is, how do we shine the light of hope into a world disorientated by
such uncertainty? How do we shine this
light into so many great and diverse needs?
Friends of ours, Don and Margie Cook, began an organisation
called Hands on Houses (www.handsonhouses.com) to build homes for the very poor,
widows and disabled people in coastal villages of South India.
They have been there for 8 ½ years and
have built 131 houses with a small team of 4 and then 12 local men. Margie and Don are planning on starting Hands
on Houses in Malawi too, hopefully in 2016, and are currently waiting on
donations to make this a possibility.
The inspiration of this couple shows me how it is possible
to take the light of Christ and make it a reality to so many in need of light. How Jesus causes resurrection and rebirth to
take place through ordinary people like you and me, so that other ordinary
people can experience these miracles too.
People whose lives turn around by acts of mercy, acts of kindness. Widows and disabled people who have never
heard of the love of Jesus, now see it demonstrated through hands of love and
action that bring them a new hope for life and a complete turnabout of destiny.
But how do we see the afflicted in our own
neighbourhoods? When we can’t be with
people who have been affected by these disasters around the world in a physical
way, we can look to see the people God places in our day to day life and shine
our light of hope and possibility, right here and now - in our churches, our
workplaces, our families, our communities.
And we can listen for the prompting of the Holy Spirit about where to
reach out with the loving action of God’s compassionate grace.
Our church is neighbours with a township called Vrygrond, a
community of many mostly African nations all gathered into one place. Some other inspiring friends of ours, Anton
and Elana Cuyler, left England where they had been living for some time, and
came back to their homeland trusting that God would show them what to do when
they got here. They felt to come to
Muizenberg, and were led to the Bay Community church. Incrementally over the past number of years,
God has opened door after door and led them step by step to reach into the
Vrygrond community with hope, love and empowering action. http://thesozofoundation.org.za/our-story/.
The miracle of the Sozo Foundation is
bringing hope to people with often fewer options in life, opening doors of
education, home improvement, vegetable gardening, and training young people in
skills that can create job opportunities for them.
These beautiful people inspire me with hope once again. I see how it is possible to take one small
step into your field of influence and beyond into the corners of the world, and
lean the light of Christ into places of great need. To start seeing lights lit up all over the
place as we join spirit with the many people all over the world who also have a
heart to see the miracle of transforming love overcome the darkness. We agree with the heart of St Francis, that yes,
the darkness cannot extinguish the
light of even one small candle. And when
we light the flame of love, we will find around us the lights of many flames
and the flames when they burn together will show that love wins out over chaos
and tragedy every time.
Take some time to meditate on the Hope of the world - how
nothing takes God by surprise and how the light will always outshine the
darkness in our own hearts and lives and into the furthest reaches of the
world. How God reorients our hearts to His
compass of peace and gives us a God-view of events.
As we intercede for the people of this world, we will not
underestimate the power of our prayers, these humble prayers. When we are
rooted and established in Christ, we are moved to do what God calls us to do
and be who he calls us to be at such a time as this. We take hope in the coming of Christ. Again and again, He comes into the heart of
the world’s greatest need. And we know
that rebirth and resurrection are miracles He will continue to alight in the hearts
and lives of people, as He reminds us of the miracles of His birth, death, and
resurrection. Nothing can separate us
from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. And so we know and rely on the love of God.
As you listen to this spontaneous song, Open up let the light in by Bethel Music, allow the light of our Saviour to radiate through every situation in your life and every part of your heart. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5
Labels:
Advent,
Christmas,
Hands on Houses,
hope,
light,
Sozo Foundation,
tsunami 2004

Saturday, November 7, 2015
Contemplative Acts of Laundry
(This chore in our house is something I have to "get around to doing". It is not something that fills me with anticipational excitement! This poem is about allowing myself the pleasure of living in the moment while doing the laundry, to allow it to become a contemplative act. The full stops between the stanzas allow for a pause and also indicate the time frames between the stages of laundry in my house - definitely not an all-in-one activity, but rather done through "stages of contemplation" :-) )
I remove wet laundry from the washing machine
Into my basket, I search for unseen socks
Lining the side of the barrel.
I carry the weighty basket up the passage
Through the kitchen and onto the outside bin.
Then I take the first garment
And choose where I want it to go.
.
All around me the garden is waiting to be heard,
Asking to be seen.
Every time I hang up my washing there is:
A mountain before me, trees, birds
Chickens cluck clucking, the sky and clouds of the day.
There is fragrance and colour, the whisper
Of a great yellow wood tree
And the invitation of the garden to be noticed.
.
I feel each garment, and peg, peg, peg
Peg up the laundry with my prayers.
.
I come back to it dry and take it down
Onebyonebyonebyonebyone draped over my
Great-bundle shoulder.
And I look and notice, look and notice.
I smell the fresh dry smell of the washing.
I take it to the bed and let it fall.
.
I fold, fold, fold
I feel the creases and press the garments.
.
I sort and organise, I pack into the cupboards
And breathe in the smell, breathe in the smell
Of the garments now packed away.
J Graser
Artist - Richard Boyer
I remove wet laundry from the washing machine
Into my basket, I search for unseen socks
Lining the side of the barrel.
I carry the weighty basket up the passage
Through the kitchen and onto the outside bin.
Then I take the first garment
And choose where I want it to go.
.
All around me the garden is waiting to be heard,
Asking to be seen.
Every time I hang up my washing there is:
A mountain before me, trees, birds
Chickens cluck clucking, the sky and clouds of the day.
There is fragrance and colour, the whisper
Of a great yellow wood tree
And the invitation of the garden to be noticed.
.
I feel each garment, and peg, peg, peg
Peg up the laundry with my prayers.
.
I come back to it dry and take it down
Onebyonebyonebyonebyone draped over my
Great-bundle shoulder.
And I look and notice, look and notice.
I smell the fresh dry smell of the washing.
I take it to the bed and let it fall.
.
I fold, fold, fold
I feel the creases and press the garments.
.
I sort and organise, I pack into the cupboards
And breathe in the smell, breathe in the smell
Of the garments now packed away.
J Graser
Artist - Richard Boyer
Labels:
contemplation,
laundry,
poetry

Feel it, think it, do it!
I feel the way the music
Forms my body into responsive acts of mercy
Mercy to my body looks like this:
No restriction, just listening all the way
Repeating the phrases, lifted arms, legs, hearts
All the way through the music
Into the dance.
I even forget where I am when I am taken so.
Every bit of box explodes off bit by royal bit
It was like everytime my feet gave an involuntary twitch
I knew I could never hold back into the pew ever again.
It was like every time I hear another note
My feet are going to leap into action
And my body is going to writhe and shake
And twist and level the ground!
The music is going to take me and my body
Into places no prayer could ever take me
In my mind.
This dancing body is going to surf the waves
Of every sound as the boxes pop, pop, pop
Off of every muscle, ligament and nerve
And the freedom searches out
The beat in me, and takes me into
Ever new territory of the music dance music
Ever new places to put on my dancing shoes
And feel it, think it, do it!
J Graser
Artist - Margaret Rice Oxley
Forms my body into responsive acts of mercy
Mercy to my body looks like this:
No restriction, just listening all the way
Repeating the phrases, lifted arms, legs, hearts
All the way through the music
Into the dance.
I even forget where I am when I am taken so.
Every bit of box explodes off bit by royal bit
It was like everytime my feet gave an involuntary twitch
I knew I could never hold back into the pew ever again.
It was like every time I hear another note
My feet are going to leap into action
And my body is going to writhe and shake
And twist and level the ground!
The music is going to take me and my body
Into places no prayer could ever take me
In my mind.
This dancing body is going to surf the waves
Of every sound as the boxes pop, pop, pop
Off of every muscle, ligament and nerve
And the freedom searches out
The beat in me, and takes me into
Ever new territory of the music dance music
Ever new places to put on my dancing shoes
And feel it, think it, do it!
J Graser
Artist - Margaret Rice Oxley
Labels:
poetry

The Youness of You
Fingerprints all very telling.
You can't get away from your
Snowflake uniqueness
Or the way no two dog's noses are the same.
You're one of a kind
Trying to fill that poor man's shoes
When he can fill his
One of a kind shoes much better.
The trick is to find out what
Your fingerprints are meant to
Stick all over.
Forensic science has got to
Pick up the essence of you
All over the place you
Assign your energy to.
You're a firework prism
Blasting black holes into galaxies.
Inventions of your own style
Creeping through your pores
Are self-lighting bulbs -
All those ideas need a place to roam.
So do it! Be yourself.
Spread your opinion out of the
Cage they tried to shun you into.
There is no cage big enough
Can hold the power in one original thought.
Your DNA plays music heard
Through no one else's veins.
It's a joyful abandon to settle back
Into the youness of you,
To feel the pleasurable zing
Of the skin you're wrapped in.
It's like, what's coming next?
No one else is going to see it the way you do.
You are one beautiful grow up upper
Filling the infinite space of you
With a great big YES,
Born-alive in the nowness of now.
J Graser
You can't get away from your
Snowflake uniqueness
Or the way no two dog's noses are the same.
You're one of a kind
Trying to fill that poor man's shoes
When he can fill his
One of a kind shoes much better.
The trick is to find out what
Your fingerprints are meant to
Stick all over.
Forensic science has got to
Pick up the essence of you
All over the place you
Assign your energy to.
You're a firework prism
Blasting black holes into galaxies.
Inventions of your own style
Creeping through your pores
Are self-lighting bulbs -
All those ideas need a place to roam.
So do it! Be yourself.
Spread your opinion out of the
Cage they tried to shun you into.
There is no cage big enough
Can hold the power in one original thought.
Your DNA plays music heard
Through no one else's veins.
It's a joyful abandon to settle back
Into the youness of you,
To feel the pleasurable zing
Of the skin you're wrapped in.
It's like, what's coming next?
No one else is going to see it the way you do.
You are one beautiful grow up upper
Filling the infinite space of you
With a great big YES,
Born-alive in the nowness of now.
J Graser
Artist - Christian Schloe
Labels:
poetry

Thursday, November 5, 2015
Let my mind climb up the tallest mountain
Little did she know it,
The subtle glance
The not so subtle telling crease in the corner of the eye.
How much had changed,
And change came that time with the sting of a bee
Looking for nectar in the summer flowers.
Everything turned on its head
Did a cartwheel into the future, past, whichever
Direction, jumped on the trampoline
And laughed, what a laugh!
I have never heard such a laugh!
I expected something so different
And all I heard were tears and laughter
Tears and laughter.
All my creases welled up that day
It was sprinkling tears of rain, tears of rain
Into the light of a trampoline day
When everything turns on its head
And says, "What now?"
The sting of these summer days
Has wakened me up, to breathe
And simmer, breathe and simmer.
To let my mind climb up the tallest mountain,
Do a handstand
And accept the upside-downness of
Everything I've come to understand is life.
Birds flying down into the sky
With blood pumping in my brains -
And the rush you get when you get back up on your feet
And suddenly everything becomes crystal clear
And you know which way to go.
J Graser
The subtle glance
The not so subtle telling crease in the corner of the eye.
How much had changed,
And change came that time with the sting of a bee
Looking for nectar in the summer flowers.
Everything turned on its head
Did a cartwheel into the future, past, whichever
Direction, jumped on the trampoline
And laughed, what a laugh!
I have never heard such a laugh!
I expected something so different
And all I heard were tears and laughter
Tears and laughter.
All my creases welled up that day
It was sprinkling tears of rain, tears of rain
Into the light of a trampoline day
When everything turns on its head
And says, "What now?"
The sting of these summer days
Has wakened me up, to breathe
And simmer, breathe and simmer.
To let my mind climb up the tallest mountain,
Do a handstand
And accept the upside-downness of
Everything I've come to understand is life.
Birds flying down into the sky
With blood pumping in my brains -
And the rush you get when you get back up on your feet
And suddenly everything becomes crystal clear
And you know which way to go.
J Graser
Labels:
poetry

Wednesday, November 4, 2015
The Art of Acceptance
In quiet, quietness I hurl a stone
Into the water.
Still, the ripples
The ripples extend
As the stone sinks.
I wait at the shoreline
Until the water
Rests into a reflection
Of clouds, sky, clouds,
Until the water sleeps before me.
Until the water reflects
My body standing by the
Water, in silence.
An occasional breeze
Shimmers the surface,
But the deep is still
The deep is calm.
The stone is on the bottom
Together with the other stones
Anonymous, settled at the bottom
As though it has always been
There.
And yet quivering vibrations of
Unseen molecules within
This anonymous stone
All remember the picking up,
The being held, the moment
Of decision, the being hurled
Into the centre of these
Deep waters.
Rain, wind, snow, rivers, hail
And the water receives it all.
Evaporates a tranquil acceptance.
And after every storm,
The quiet, quietness.
J Graser
Into the water.
Still, the ripples
The ripples extend
As the stone sinks.
I wait at the shoreline
Until the water
Rests into a reflection
Of clouds, sky, clouds,
Until the water sleeps before me.
Until the water reflects
My body standing by the
Water, in silence.
An occasional breeze
Shimmers the surface,
But the deep is still
The deep is calm.
The stone is on the bottom
Together with the other stones
Anonymous, settled at the bottom
As though it has always been
There.
And yet quivering vibrations of
Unseen molecules within
This anonymous stone
All remember the picking up,
The being held, the moment
Of decision, the being hurled
Into the centre of these
Deep waters.
Rain, wind, snow, rivers, hail
And the water receives it all.
Evaporates a tranquil acceptance.
And after every storm,
The quiet, quietness.
J Graser
Labels:
acceptance,
poetry

Monday, October 19, 2015
Alive to the Present
The sun warms the hairs on the back of my neck
And my closed eyes glow red with the lids.
My brain suffused with this light
Calls the seeds of my thoughts to dance out of their pods
And grow, grow, grow.
Into the present I am able to fly
With the wings Sophia calls, When-am-I-going-to-be-able-to-fly
Only-in-Heaven wings.
The sun glows through my fingers pink red orange,
The light does this to my blood
Makes it look like a Japanese lantern.
I am alive
It is the present.
My breath rises and falls like the wind
What it does to the wheat fields pulsing.
My breath does the same, then I feel my heart
And the blood that pumps through those ventricles.
I am alive
In the present.
Everything they told me at school
Was to prepare for my future and make sure
I make enough money to live, eat, sleep, succeed, rise to the top.
But they didn't tell me I would find the meaning of life
In being alive,
To the present.
In the blood that is God's, beating through my veins
In the breath, blood, breath of my body,
Alive to the moment,
Present.
J Graser
Artist - Christian Schloe
And my closed eyes glow red with the lids.
My brain suffused with this light
Calls the seeds of my thoughts to dance out of their pods
And grow, grow, grow.
Into the present I am able to fly
With the wings Sophia calls, When-am-I-going-to-be-able-to-fly
Only-in-Heaven wings.
The sun glows through my fingers pink red orange,
The light does this to my blood
Makes it look like a Japanese lantern.
I am alive
It is the present.
My breath rises and falls like the wind
What it does to the wheat fields pulsing.
My breath does the same, then I feel my heart
And the blood that pumps through those ventricles.
I am alive
In the present.
Everything they told me at school
Was to prepare for my future and make sure
I make enough money to live, eat, sleep, succeed, rise to the top.
But they didn't tell me I would find the meaning of life
In being alive,
To the present.
In the blood that is God's, beating through my veins
In the breath, blood, breath of my body,
Alive to the moment,
Present.
J Graser
Artist - Christian Schloe
Labels:
poetry

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