On the Other Side

On the Other Side

For the man filled with sorrow

anxiety that rises from brokenness

wondering if today is the day

when what your heart longs for

connection and comfort rests as a blanket

like a soft caress within

Where shame and failures wash away

leaving pure scars of vulnerability

that capture the eye as if priceless works of art

on display for all to see

beauty that's on the other side

the struggle that yields fruit of redemption and restoration

Poem 21-099B

Perhaps these words will encourage the man that is struggling with breaking free of shame and failure. A poem written a couple of years ago as journey through life in the journey of redemption and restoration. May God grant you peace in this moment, be of good cheer for there is hope.

#highplainspoet,#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#hope,#healing,#shame,#failure,#redemption,#restoration

If My Poetry Were A Place

 If My Poetry Were A Place

My poetry is a sacred interior soil 

that reclaims fertility

where the earth blooms

in a well tended garden

A place that invites

the weary to rest

and the wild to relax

solitude in secluded corners

Where dew drips off the vine

and sweet nectar drifts sweet

from blossom and bud

richness of earth mingled in a cocktail

Interior places inked

what was lost is found

growing hope from ashes

and love takes root beyond brokenness

Poem 23-020y

#highplainspoet,#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#healing,#rest,#hope,#spiritual,#peace

Grit

Grit

Yesterday…

I felt old

Like that old cottonwood

that creaks in the wind

with a few withered limbs

I never thought of myself

as old,... even though my face shows age

a little more each year

adding another ring to the trunk

Aged character like the gnarly grain

of finely polished oak

drawn out by the perfect shade of honey stain

Perhaps I'm just feeling

the stains of life upon my veneer

that has finally caught up

A weariness in the mirror

just below the eyes

like a gray-purple bruising

The bruising of life

that rest doesn't seem to cure any more

Poem 22-325.1 © Now, Brian 

#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#highplainspoet,#aging,#weariness,#the_journey

https://www.westernnebraskathoughtsandlife.com/

Drifting

Drifting

Snow skitters across the ground

driven by tyrannical wind

whipping up a ground blizzard

Those light fluffy thoughts

not rooted, looking for a fence

to drift against

Forming a cornice at the peak

of rigid stories

waiting for that stop

That avalanche that crashes

tumbling through the roof

until the mind calms and hope digs out

21-345A (c) highplainspoet

#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#highplainspoet,#ground_blizzard,#busy_mind,#nature,#peace

https://www.westernnebraskathoughtsandlife.com/

Peace Upon Inner Critic

Peace Upon Inner Critic

November mornings filled with dirty pink dawns

light tenderly brushes the clouds in glory

hidden moments when world still asleep

where blessings and beauty bestows a new day

Moment where volume turned down

when inner critic is told to sit down

find solitude's connection and grounding

drawn to gaze at painted sky and live in today

The voice inside that catastrophizes yesterdays and tomorrows

bound with my own words that not welcome here

just an energy sucker and bearer of unnecessary suffering

I say get out… GO

This day is a day born in stillness

grounded in connection with Father

where I am His and He is mine

the accuser has no quarters here

Poem 20-320a © highplainspoet

#highplainspoet,#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#inner_crtitic,#healing

https://www.westernnebraskathoughtsandlife.com/

Threshold/Story Line

 Threshold/Story Line

Chiffon clouds veil the sun

teasing light and shadows

upon brown prairie blade

as year is at its threshold

Seductive memories jiggle about

to catch my eye

and thus beauty of life

remembered in each inhale and exhale.

Of God's goodness

as our children find love

watching them grow

in maturity and giving of themselves

Of remembering pain

of failing my lover

seeing the ache in

her mocha eyes

Of learning how to

stay present when all I knew

was to disassociate

the way I ran

Of those brought in my path

to stretch and grow me

to challenge the story I believed

and offer a Godly perspective that

alters my story line

Poem 22-364 ©

#westnernebraskathoughtsandlife,#highplainspoet,#remembering,#healing,#hope,#reconciliation,#story_line,#perspective

Thaws

Thaws

Beneath the warmth

of the winter sun

snow slowly moves

across the river valley

settles lower and lower

in all the crevices and ravines

and dampens the sandy loam

Just as my heart

ebbs and flows

with the warmth for you

settles in our crevices and ravines

which thaws the season of pain

melts the distance and all that

was frozen between us

Poem 23-008 ©

#highplainspoet,#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#love,#reconciliation,#seasons,#winter,#nature,#sorrow,#grief,#beauty

What If

What If

Some say life it's about leaving a legacy…

what if life is about leaving a smile on another's face

 what if life is it about another knowing you love them fully

   what if life is about the times we made loving connection

  what if life isn't about leaving a monument or legacy 

 what if life is about love and loving well

what if that is a life well-lived

What if that is legacy

Poem 22-016z

#highplainspoet,#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#love,#relationships

Cedar

Blue green berries

on the tips of the cedar

hang seductively

as the finch lands close

only to spot me and fly to a perch

watching me, wondering what I'm doing

until his anxiety peaks and flies away

The top of the cedar broken off

leaving a scar and broken bark

pealed off from when natures violence violated

the tender growth

that in time will heal

and the cedar will grow

beyond my lifetime

Poem 22-017C

#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#highplainspoet,#nature

Adult Daughters and Son

 

Adult Daughters and Son

The ebb and flow of seasons

their comings and goings

marked by the extra pairs of shoes

parked in disarray at the front door

along with the extra chairs

around our small table

The 80 year old farm house,

like you would imagine, is compact

filled with laughter and joy

our voices bumping into each other

as if in the bustle of Grand Central Station,

which is what the kitchen of the

house has become

Until the front door has just

three pairs of shoes once again

resting on the rug

as life carries the voices

in the flow of their own life's

leaving our hearts quieter

yet full 

And

There is a joy that remains

in seeing growth and individuation

knowing they will be okay

blessing and releasing them

so much to grateful for

January 8, 2022

Poem 22-008A

#highplainspoet,#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife,#family,#love,#Nebraska,#farm_life

High Plains Clouds

 

High Plains Clouds

The silver clouds lurk upon the northern horizon 
only to sulkily scurry away, as if caught in the act

While the skiff of snow snakes across the top
of the existing blanket of cold purity

The track I traveled several times a day
over the last weeks now covered over

It is as if I have never tread this path 
laying down fresh tracks with each step

And

I notice my thoughts, how they like those clouds
can have silver-gray linings that want to scurry away
under the examination of today

Yet

As my cheeks turn flush against the wind
my mind clears just as the clouds saunter away
and peace settles softly like the falling snow

Poem 23-025z
#Nebraska, #Highplainspoet, #Nature, #winter, #contemplation
photo is © by author

Micromoon

 

Micromoon

In the fading hush of variegated pinks and purples

last moments of daylight slip to the other side of the 'just beyond'

as the Ice Moon of January, a micromoon, climbs above the prairie

in full paleness on snow glazed prairie with prismatic tinsel glints

while the coyotes awaken in songs of primal praise

and the snow crunches beneath my feet

as I too offer up my praise for beauty on this January eve of '23

the milky light scumbles with frosty wind upon my flush cheeks

as the ethereal glow reflects upon barren limbs and brittle blade

with each exhale a foggy mist floats in little clouds that I march through

until my journey is complete and find myself back at the house

where glasses steam over while peel off the layers

of Nebraska high plains armor left to dry until dawn beckons

in her translucent rays to see anew in the light of day

Poem 23-008Z Micromoon

About walking under the full moon last night (1/7/23), the Wolf Moon or Ice Moon that also happens to be a micromoon as opposed to a supermoon. There is something about the stillness, hearing coyotes singing rounds to each other from different directions while the moon's light is bright upon the snow. Makes my heart sing in praise to God for the gift of life and the beauty of simple things, to embrace the simplicity of the moment with gratitude.

#nature, #full_moon, #Nebraska, #prairie, #high_plains

O' Yellowstone

Memories float like cotton on your water

O' Yellowstone your grandeur and beauty

which is more cherished

experiencing you or sharing you as a family

Like golden hair wrapped around your sylvan neck

gracing the shoulders softly upon a maiden's breast

strands of water course over the edge of the Lower Falls

awestruck breathlessness settles as if a second first kiss

Lake Yellowstone crowned like a queen with majestic peaks

in a soft purple pink gloam at dusk

a finger tracing chill gathers crawling up one's spine

that intruding feeling of gazing on an intimate moment

Old Faithful spouting off like a best friend

belching forth steam and spewing water

drenching those who dare get too close with bitter waters

just as quickly receding back for a magma recharge

O' Yellowstone sulfur permeates the air

as if hell has opened a portal

a feeble attempt to

draw the eye away from you

Chill of 7000 feet in a tent in early September of 09

elk in rut calling out mixed with wolves howling

O' Yellowstone's soothing serenade

beckons us to stay and gaze upon you more

Poem 21-170

@highplainspoet, #highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

Nature, beauty, Yellowstone

Image is © by the poet, taken in 2009 of the Lower Fall

185 words

Fall Murmurations

Fall Murmurations

The beating of hundreds of wings
swiftly passing overhead
a murmuration
in daring contortions

The chattering looking
for a place to rest
soon alight in a cluster of trees
making a ruckus as if they brought
the party with them

Poem 21-312B
@highplainspoet
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife
#murmuration
#poetry
#poem
#poems

Backer Rod

Backer Rod

As I look at the crack
in the 100 year old concrete
thinking, there's a place 
for backer rod and caulk

Then I ponder 
the cracks in my soul
somehow backer rod won't work
it doesn't go deep enough

The depth of fracture clear
I'm in need of a kintusugi
where I'm welded back together
with gold, silver, and platinum

 
Where I become the art
to the Master Artisan's craft
restored and priceless

redeemed

Poem 21-304y @highplainspoet on ig
#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #redemption

What is kintusugi? Go to  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi
learn a little more.

Chasing

Chasing

What I thought was love
was really me chasing God
in a way that didn't bring life
only led to me performing for Him

And…

that is no way to live

Love is a mutual chasing
where we run and play
moment of intimate embrace

Then…

playful glint in the eyes

As we start the chase
that flips from time to time
in pivots and sharp turns
until we tumble into one another

Poem 21-277A 
#highplainspoet #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife 
#play #joy

Crossroads

Crossroads

One of those hot humid Illinois summer evenings
where fireflies blink like my synapses firing
putting dormant memories in a new context
while I feel the humid breeze and hear the corn grow

Places that creaks like that old wooden screen door,
the slow draw on the spring that groans in the stretch
until it lets go and the wooden slam
another Truth breaks free onto the front porch

I sit with him, Truth, on the porch swing,
we rock back and forth stirring up memories
like those cheap snow globes, one of those souvenirs,
in hopes of bringing back the emotions of the past

Reconsidering judgments made that smothered
all relationship, a saboteur of myself
without realizing what I was doing…
now I stand with Truth in the crossroads

Poem 21-200B
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

Nashota

Nashota 

Beauty that once ran free
lifeless and cold 
in the autumn morning chill
stunned by the unexpected loss

To see hopes and dreams
without any breath
like an icy plunge
shocks the system

Still expect to see
you in your place…

in the herd…

in the rhythm…
 
of the in and out parade to the pastures…

Instead, a bare spot
in our field near a tree
where you were
laid to rest

That's what processing grief
looks like today

Poem 21-270y
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife
#horses
#grief

Nashota passed away sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning. Stunned to find her already gone in the morning. We buried her yesterday, Sunday, in the northwest field about 20 yards northeast of the turtle tree. It is where she once ran free among the herd. She was with us for 17 years.

Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes

   beauty is found 

       in a weed.

Poem 21-202c

#highplainspoet, #nebraskathoughtsandlife, #nature, #beauty, #paradigm

Red Elderberries

 

Red Elderberries

Regret like red elderberries against lush green

stain relationships with shame

until able to see with new eyes

how scars create a new beauty

along the fault lines of life

Poem 21-200y

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtandlife, #redemption, #healing, #hope

Image © by author, taken in Spearfish Canyon in the Black Hills.