Category Archives: Poetry

Mj’s Poems

Deep to Deep

I kept forgetting your name
and each time, you patiently reminded me
in that quiet, gentle manner of yours,
your smile held the softness of
someone who’d seen it all.

There was more to you, to your story,
a depth that echoed pain
and made me curious,
pulled at me.

The sadness in your eyes
mirrored my own, deep to deep,
like hunger burning to be witnessed.

And the guarded parts of me opened;
I wanted to ease that ache,
and in easing your ache,
mine was also honored.

May my affection find you
when you most need it,
around and around and back home again,
to a place where you feel most loved.


A Sunday morning poem about someone who became very dear to me ☕🌿 Mj

tiny ache

What is this tiny ache
that swells
behind my heart?
A worry, sorrow, dismay?
Please let it soon depart!

How restless are my days,
wondering what is yet to come.
Roads closing into silence,
every step undone.

Where is this life of ease
that others swear exists?
It flickers like illusion,
always just out of reach.

If I could trust myself enough
to quiet all my fears,
perhaps this ache inside my chest
would finally disappear.


Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

the raven

my dear friend, the raven,
has a certain kind of MAGICK
dressed in black from head to tail,
has a flair for the dramatic
such a sooty bird is he,
flying fast on graceful wingbeats
watch him dive across the sky
an aerial acrobat and artful spy
fills the blue with an echoing croak
he’s a brilliant trickster under cloak
see him vividly in my dreams,
casting charms as i sleep
bringing change and ancient wisdom
reminds me of all i am to become

a little creek

there’s a mossy little creek

where i like to sit and think

a shallow slope to mull and dream,

where glossy water babbles midstream

i skip barefoot ‘cross the river stones

earth and fire in my bones,

behold the current gently flow,

carrying my dreams safely home


Photo by Maddox Howe on Unsplash

howl at the moon

i hear Nature summoning
run wild through the trees,
taste my youth on the tip of my tongue

at home in this body, in this evening breeze

a midnight stroll through the green,
to exorcise the ache
howling fiercely at the moon
like some secret language

shadow of trees and cloak of leaves–
a romance the dark nourishes,
as though turning the pages of this life,

and

the

windy

path

diverges


Photo by Unsplash in collaboration with Getty Images