I told you my secret name

Vincent van Gogh, The Yellow House in Arles, 1888.
vowels and consonants
your skin flew from your bones
the way birds fly when they hear a sudden noise
the moon opened wide
and other moons emerged from the gap
there was the noise of a beehive
and each bee carried a diamond to your eyes
this lit up the night
your fingers touched vowels and consonants
your hair was jeweled with punctuation
I rang a bell and a star appeared to keep you warm
moment by moment the night passed
second by second
that which we shared grew strong and tall
we whispered secrets and held each other
like angels holding compassion and the power of god
I told you my secret name
the name that I had never before said aloud
not even once
daylight returned with bees and honey
and a warmth that made sounds of its own
vowels and consonants
and we stayed together
held firm by time and the life we made
by the family that we created
james lee jobe

I don't believe in God or Jesus or The Rapture, but you have no idea how many times I have been absolutely wrong.Â
james lee jobeÂ

standing in that silver doorway
she no longer stands in that silver doorway just waitingÂ
one breast matched the silver of the door-frame and with the other she lay in waiting  attacking those people who passed by with evil marks on their foreheadsÂ
light in the water of being light in the curls of her long hair  light in the messages left by invisible beings that she translated into english for the amusement of the crowd  for the amusement of those cretins who sat in judgmentÂ
light in the arches of her perfect feet the light of the sunÂ
the sweet blue of the prairie sky  no matter how high she held her hands the color never rubbed off onto her like she hoped  asked for  and didn't really believe she deservedÂ
she no longer stands in that silver doorway waiting with volcanoes in her eyesÂ
she no longer stands in that silver doorway waiting with the strength of joshua trembling in her hands and armsÂ
time passes for everyone  for her and for you, tooÂ
time is part of the secret  the light of livingÂ
time is the answer  time is the question  and time is always beyond our controlÂ
james lee jobe

"Do anything, but let it produce joy."
—Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Grandkid with kitten.
If you enjoy this blog, and I hope that you do, please consider making a donation through the BUY ME A COFFEE button below. (Not every time you come here, just maybe once in awhile.) It's done safely online, and just takes a moment. I could use the supplement since my mobility issues no longer allow me to work. Thanks!
jamesÂ