should my afternoon
shadow ever get away
i couldn’t catch it
–photo by me
Author: michaeljordahl
Retired Miner, loves science, reading, carving, walking, recovering alcoholic
Creation Celebration
In trying to write a poem, I paused
To peer out in joyous wonderment
At God’s resplendent panorama of
A beauty far beyond man’s poetry.
This breathtaking extravaganza of
Sights and sounds and sensations
Overwhelmed me so completely,
I wept over the sublime splendor
Written into every blade of grass.
I don’t think I can write that poem
Anymore — wait, I think I just did!
A Windblown Leif
The planks and oarsmen
Groaned as one,
The wind began to blow,
And at the bow Leif Erikson’s
Unease began to grow.
He’d put his trust in Jesus now,
And sailed to serve the Lord —
Yet Odin’s raven mocked him
As the longboat left the fjord.
Soon blown off course,
He pulled aside a slave
In his distress, and said,
“Bring me your mistress, thrall,
Bring me your prophetess!”
The witch came forth,
Her robe bedecked with
Skulls and precious stones,
And calling on the Alfather,
She cast her ancient bones.
“What is is?” Leif called out to her,
“What do your old bones say?”
“They say a man should trust
his gods to guide him on his way.”
And so he prayed to his new god,
And soon a land was found
Where food and game were plentiful,
And “wheat and grapes abound.”
(originally 11-16)
On This Day
For a man to deny that apes
Are his cousins is ignorance
And maybe even excusable
For a man to deny that other
Men are his brothers is pure
Prejudice and oafish bigotry
Let us step back and see the
World without borders and
That man is one with all life
minnesota
crazy cold
and i wish i didn’t have to go
out there in the snow
my thermometer
reads forty below
fahrenheit and celsius
our bulbs are turning blue
bear
bear
powerful, dangerous
drooling, panting, prowling
big and black in the back yard
fear
the introvert
she peers through dark leaves
at the colorful real world
and is glad for it
she is pleased to be alone
no matter what they all say
–photo by me
father star
our father star left long ago,
the supernova type,
but mother star is stabler so
we give her all the hype,
yet father star did not just blow
us off out in the cold,
he left us our inheritance
in silver and in gold.
haiku 25
winter sun suspects
that summer’s windblown hayfields
hide in predawn skies
–photo by me
one
i dreamt my feet
had turned to roots
held firmly
in the ground
and all that i
could manage was
to think and
look around
and standing there
attached to earth
i couldn’t help
but seeing
that i’m a part
of everything
and not a
separate being
michaeljordahl 