Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Seized

I am a well-oiled
working
machine
daily yoga tune-ups
deep inhalations
stretching me
to reach
beyond
be flexible

but somewhere I seized
not like
carpe diem
though the day
the present
became painfully clear
back locked up
muscle jammed
into some
raised knot
gripping
breath
and movement

I’m too young
to be laid up
grunting
when I bend down
uttering words like
‘my back just seized up on me’

loved ones offer wisdom
‘just breathe into it’
hands moving circles over soreness
‘you’re gripping there, let go’

I don’t know exactly what it is I’m holding on to
why I captured myself in this seizure
ears hear ‘let go’
and my back wants to know how

somewhere there is a river
an infinite current
coursing more than just my spine
where we float
(or thrash, or dive, or swim – you decide)
maybe in my try
to be flexible
I forgot to drift
so I’m going to bob
here
in the ripples
slowly spin
within the eddies
let the river move me
be seized
overtaken
by all things greater than
me

courtesy of Kevin Saff
Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Time and the Twine Tie

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

Always using what we have, the Bohemian takes the trimmings from the panax hedge and crafts a trellis for the garden tomatoes.

“It’s a project, Jess…” he says with a smile, as he lays out all the pieces on the ground like some giant quilt.

It’s a team effort as I cut twine and hold intersections together while he wraps and ties. Diamond shapes take form as he asks me, “What year is this?”

He’s excited that we are not using nails or other ‘modern’ technology (though, I am using an exacto blade – rather than my teeth or a rock – to cut the twine).

The whole project takes about an hour in a half. We realize a person could have bought a lattice at Wal-mart or the hardware store. And we suppose that would be a normal course of action for someone who doesn’t have the time to tie 20 cross-sections together.

But I know the Bohemian – and I would agree. He doesn’t want to buy it if he doesn’t have to.

Besides, “We’ve got all the time in the world. Right, Jess?” he asks, still wrapping and tying.

That’s how he is with these projects. Casually infusing the ether with magical incantations as he executes seemingly mundane tasks. Planting seeds, digging holes or erecting trellises. He gets the chores done with a twist. Singing “Happy Birthday” to garlic cloves or chanting “beautiful garden” to the basil starts as he plants them. Evoking timelessness through diamond portals as he builds the tomato support.

I go along with the Bohemian and his projects. Glad to be led to the profound through his simple. Let this twine tie transcend us beyond space and time.

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Passing

Everything has cycles. This one I’m in is passing.

Meaning, that as I gather around the fire with the poets and musicians, when the circle rounds to my turn, I pass.

By my side there may be a folder full of fresh poetry I’ve never read, but one scan of the headlamp light over printed pages, and nothing’s deemed necessary. No words from me yearn to be brought to air.

I rest in curious terrain. Observing in this quiet passive place.

Maybe the bucket is being lowered deep into the well, leaving only the echoed sound of liquid sloshing in its cavern. Here peace reverberates without naming.

I soak in the respite of this wordless phase. I know, it too, will inevitably pass.

photo courtesy of echiner1
photo courtesy of echiner1