Archives for posts with tag: inspiration

Ode to Odes

Above the clouds
where there is no thinking,
no need for intellect
or dusty stacks
of books,

from this lofty space
these unneeded words fall,
contained in raindrops—

sometimes coming to us
as gentle showers for contemplation,
sometimes as stormy torrents
pelting the heart.

Drop by drop,
they bloat the dusty stacks
of books we have yet to read,
running in rivulets
down our Earth-bodies,
filtering through all memory
and experience, to the ground
beneath our conscious feet,

where, once embedded
in the sleeping soil of the ages,
they gradually ascend once again
like geese from the pond,
drifting back up, up

to that space above
the clouds, where there is
no thinking, no need for intellect
or dusty stacks of books
we keep meaning to read,
only joy and more joy,
wordless joy.

Claire Juno, © 2017

…dedicated to those above the clouds, on this Day of the Dead.



I show up,
waiting for you
to show up.
Waiting for
that brilliance
to waft through
the garden air,
redolent with
greenery and
flying things.

I have learned,
with time,
not to expect
anything, but
to extend the
just the same.

A petal falls
from a rose
that is fading
in the heat. I am
a solitary witness.
And still I wait.

A chipmunk
rests on a fence
and this is
a first for me,
as I have never
actually seen
a chipmunk
rest anywhere,
at any time,
for any reason.

A mosquito
happily fastens
itself to my neck.
When the breeze
shifts slightly, he
finds his way
to another
reluctant host.

I sip my tea.
It’s not bad,
but I should have
picked a different
flavor. It will take
a month to finish
an entire box of it
and that’s
a lot of trips
to the garden,
looking as usual
for you
to alight upon
my sleeve like a
metallic blue beetle,
odd in its beauty
and beautiful
in its oddness,
goading me on
to include it somehow
in whatever comes next,
what falls to paper.

Claire Juno, © 2013