Thoughts and Poems…

I added some more links. Not all of them are Spaces, but that is okay I think.

 

I cooked pork chops, broccoli rice au gratin, and carrots for supper. It was very good. Alex ate it up even though he had just snacked out a while before. I noticed today that he had two pair of pants laying in the floor. When I asked what was up with that he said they don’t fit. I guess it will not be too long before I have to make a trip to Old Navy to get him new pants. Always something clamoring for my money. The kid is a money magnet, but that is okay. I love him so much.

 

I messed around with BlogShares some more today. I think that could get addicting. If you have not registered or claimed your blog you really should. It is a neat thing.

 

I do not really have much to write about. I should say my earlier remarks about men were not meant to reflect on them negatively. More to express my wish to understand these fascinating beings more fully.  I find other females almost as confusing at times. People in general are mysterious.

 

I went out for a walk and enjoyed the sun so much. I did my usual thing and read a book as I walked. Lets me accomplish two things at once, and since I am inclined to dislike exercise it keeps my mind occupied. I know the path I take so well that I do not have to watch where I am going exactly.

 

An older poem:

 

Blocked

 

Like a stream

In its course

Which cannot flow

My mind will

Not let me know

The words I need

To fill the empty page.

I sit and stare

Then sometimes rage

Because I want

To unleash my vision

In imaginative artistry

And make no provision

For this block which stymies me.

 

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Copyright September 22, 2002

 

I feel this intensely at times. 

 

The following poem I like a great deal:

 

Doodles in the Sand

 

She stood alone, circled by accusers

A gleeful scow etched upon each face,

No hint of mercy showing.

 

The guilt not solely hers

Yet, she knew she had a part,

She could not deny her fault.

 

They gathered stones,

Each held one in his hands,

Instruments of her demise.

 

Then He entered the circle,

Squatted down to doodle in the sand

She watched amazed His hand.

 

What did His writing mean?

Would He also condemn her?

Children, she thought, doodle.

 

The mob asked Him what they

Should do with one so guilty

He merely wrote in the sand.

 

What, she wondered, did He scribble?

Was that her name He wrote?

Something about sin… shame… love?

 

Maybe He did not hear nor care.

He stood only for a moment firm,

“Let him without sin cast the first stone.”

 

He knelt again swiftly writing

Seemingly unaware of the murmur

That rose angry on their lips.

 

She watched as the elders first departed

Then the younger disappeared,

Suddenly He and she were alone.

 

She gazed at Him in awe.

How, she wondered, did He

Know just the words to say?

 

She had no idea how to thank Him

Wondered if He would judge her,

Baffled she watched this man.

 

He smiled at her tenderly,

“Woman where are your accusers?

Did no one judge you guilty?”

 

She stammered, “ No one, sir.”

He grinned, “Neither do I judge you guilty.

You are free to go now, sin no more.”

 

He forgave me, even me, she thought.

She lingered a few moments

Then skipped away heart singing light.

 

Many times, she wondered

About the doodles in the sand

The Savior had written there.

 

As years passed she realized

The doodles were not important.

“Not guilty” was written on her heart.

 

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

March 22, 2000

 

I wanted to reflect on the position of the woman in this, maybe because I always identified with her. I hope I pulled it off.

 

Well, I guess that is all for right now.

 

Always,

Jo Ann