Falling Stars

Thanks to Nick Iliasov @nikwes for making this photo available freely on Unsplash 🎁 https://unsplash.com/photos/r6lFPDFiqGs

Every year I love to lie beneath the stars in the summer. Especially when we are camping or up north at my folks’ cottage, I love to look up in wonder.

One of the highlights of visiting The Badlands was the Night Sky Program they offered. There in this amazing setting, a Park Ranger pointed out all the different stars, planets, and satellites blinking down at us.

We saw Jupiter and Mars and Saturn through high powered telescopes. We bonded with total strangers in the inky blackness, sharing stories of all the magic that happened under stars in our own lives.

I tried to capture a bit of the wonder and magic of falling stars in this poem.

falling stars

balls of fire, dancing
like fireflies suspended on string.
oh how they careened down
with a nod and a wink.

how many wishes
were granted that night?
how many starstruck lovers
closed their eyes and hoped?

sometimes it is hard to imagine
that the death of a single star
lingers long into the future,
touching all who see it.

lying beneath the fireworks,
wishing and hoping for more,
praying not to be burned
by the smoldering embers.


—a draft by cjpjordan

What wish would you make?

Day #25

Today the challenge was to write a poem that uses anaphora. Anaphora is a literary term for the practice of repeating certain words or phrases at the beginning of multiple clauses or, in the case of a poem, multiple lines. The phrase “A time to,” as used in the third Chapter of Ecclesiastes, is a good example of anaphora.

I chose to use today’s challenge to honor my friends Joe and Mary Drouillard who celebrate their sixtieth year of life and thirty-fifth year of marriage tonight at a gathering of friends. This poem is for Mary and Joe and all the other “Marys and Joes” out there who know about the cadence of life and enduring love in relationship.

thirty-five years

the cadence of the years marches on
like a demanding taskmaster who knows
the click of steel toe boots on cement tick
tick ticks off time.

the cadence of the years marches on
like a faithful friend who knows
the rhythmic certainty of cadence brings
comfort and consolation.

the cadence of the years marches on
like an ardent lover who knows
the joy of passionate pursuit and finds
shelter and security in love.

the cadence of the years marches on
without reprieve
without permission
without forgiveness.

but you.

you are
my reprieve
my permission
my forgiveness.

you are
my demanding taskmaster
my rhythmic certainty
my ardent passion.

the cadence of the years marches on
and I wouldn’t choose to march with anyone

but you.

Day #11

National Poetry Month: Day #11

The prompt for today was to write a Anacreontic poem (basically, a seven syllabic line with rhyming couplets) about wine-and-love.

I accepted the challenge, as always, but with my own twist. This morning a friend of mine posted something on her Facebook that resonated deep within me. This friend has suffered through many struggles – her husband is fighting a painful cancer, she’s lost close family members to death, she herself has had multiple health problems, and the list goes on. Her post stated that two songs best describe what she’s been dealing with lately: “Worn” by Tenth Avenue North and “Held” by Natalie Grant.

Worn and held–these two words hummed in my mind and soul all day long. When it came to writing this poem, I decided to write about love – truelove – the kind that comes along once in a lifetime. The kind of love that loves and waits and worries through excruciating cancers and health problems exacerbated by stress. The kind of love that partners so deeply, death may separate the bodies, but never the souls.

I dedicate this poem to a true Warrior Woman: Christina Thomas-Reilly.

Worn and Held

A warrior woman stately,
she wears her duty greatly
like an elegant long gown
loosely draped and flowing down.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

There’s a confidence and trust
even when life seems unjust
that speaks the power of grace,
that shines brightly on her face.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

Though often simply worn out,
she stands steady and devout.
When asked how she manages,
she lists the advantages
of resting in her Savior
held safely through all failure.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

In the midst of disaster,
she runs straight to the Master
who hears her heart while she weeps–
gently holds her while she sleeps.

Sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

The warrior weary and worn
lays down the burden she’s born.
She pours out her life like oil,
plants love in the fertile soil
deep within her lover’s soul.
So relinquish all control
sweet girl who lives worn and held:
Warrior Woman never quelled.

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Day #3

National Poetry Month: Day #3

I thought I would share the poetry prompt each day. The challenge today was to write a charm – a simple rhyming poem, in the style of a recipe-slash-nursery rhyme.

a charmed life

before the eve
of the moon’s full rise,
find for yourself
two owl eyes–
eyes that see into
the realms of the soul,
eyes that discern
the part from the whole.
add to the mix chin hair
from a moose
braided into rope
for a very long noose.
sever the head
of the dandelion fair
at the base of the stem
where there grows no hair;
slip the large yellow head
right into the rope,
and close your eyes tightly
as you hope with all hope
for a life as fair as
the skin of Snow White
with the speed and excitement
of a bumblebee’s flight,
for trouble free dreams
under cobalt blue skies,
for the wishes and whispers
of a lover’s sweet sighs.
and all of these wonders
and riches untold
will be yours ever after
to have and to hold.