*
The Child’s and My Circle
By Jane Tawel
October 9, 2021
*
Within me, every molecule
is still the little child.
She longs for my protection
but also, to run wild.
She was, but also is now;
and though I don’t know how,
she asks for my tomorrows,
to…
*
Walls
By Jane Tawel
September 25, 2021
*
I wake and sleep to thoughts,
that my mind makes into strong walls
defending me against peace and rest.
And as my self tries to leap over
the bricks and mortar of my so-called beliefs,
I get caught in the tangles…
The Bucket List I Never Made, Come True
By Jane Tawel
September 13, 2021
I have never made nor contemplated making a bucket list. I have absolutely nothing against making one, and I love to hear about other folks’ items on their bucket lists. I find them incredibly revelatory and…
How Much We Must Unknow to Understand
By Jane Tawel
September 6, 2021
*
To allude to a fact, is to release it to deeper understanding.
To allude to the past, is to increase its future expanding.
To cling to knowledge is a losing game,
as shallow as a puddle…
*
Hidden God Hiding Love
By Jane Tawel
August 29, 2021
*
God hides.
All truth speakers know this.
All truth seekers show this,
in The Way they treat others.
We don’t know why God hides,
but it must have something to do,
with us, not God.
After all, a…
Our Little Life-Boats
By Jane Tawel
August 22, 2021
A long, long time ago and only yesterday, the materials for making my little life’s boat, were gathered in secret by the DNA of my Scottish, Irish, American Indian ancestors. But the real craft, the trued and tried boat itself, was…
I-Thou Consciousness
By Jane Tawel
August 9, 2021
*
Oh, God!
Are You not conscious
without my Being,
conscious of You?
*
I-Thou revolts
and revises the mundane,
profane, explainers,
complainers, man-splainers,
and painful, painful, pain.
You are both bane
and that small niggling voice
that makes me whole again,
…
*
Rising from the Ruts
By Jane Tawel
July 28, 2021
*
As we grow older,
We slow down, glitch, molder.
And everything sticks
or contracts —
like our bones, and our memories,
we contract and dig grooves.
And all our muscles,
figuratively and literally,
we tighten into cords;
cords…
*
On July 7, 2021, my greatest cheerleader, most enduring audience, loving critic, incomparable supporter, and most beloved mother, Jane Cook, passed away from this life. Life will never be the same. Writing will never be the same. The following are some pathetic attempts at thoughts on her passing, in…
Dreams on the Journey
By Jane Tawel
July 6, 2021
*
Dreams often start skidding a bit,
when reality appears in the road.
And if we are carrying a load,
of a vision that won’t clear up,
smooth and pristine,
but rather gleans from us,
the weight of our meaning,
…
