"Spanish Moss" a poem by Jess Coffman

The silent swishing of the Spanish moss, 

The Sun peeking between the leaves,

My heart swells and I release a sigh,

Of uncertainty, love and overwhelm. 

The dusky haze, halos growing wine,

The Presence weighing warm and heavy.

The faintest spice upon my lips,

Equally fulfilling and melancholy.

River-wrought and filthy, 
Bacardi purified within, 

I close my eyes and accept it all. 

His gentle fingers leave invisible scars on my skin,

And I'm old and I'm new,

And I'm young again and renewed.

Nothing is certain,

But his head 

Laying bravely on my lap,

Conjuring words of beauty and devotion,

Creating a never-ending ocean. 

Which he offers and takes,

In the quakes he creates.

JESS COFFMAN

"The Valley of the Moon" a love poem by Jess Coffman

The Valley of the Moon...

Where you're baptized in Beauty,

the instant you step

outside of your door.

A Cleansing,

Shameless Wonderland

Awakening hidden desire

And a Full, Body Smile.

Transcendence,

within every sunbeam,

If you're Brave enough

to find Your Light.

If you're Open enough

to Discover it,

If you're Bold enough

to Uncover it.

If you're Adventurous enough

to touch the Abundant, Astounding

Fruits of Nature

with just One fingertip...

Imagine what you could feel

if you Surrendered

your whole hand...

or Two whole hands?

Imagine what you could give of yourself!

The Valley of the Moon...

With Energy that pulls you

into its tides of Fun and Forgiveness.

With the eventual realization that

the Pulse you feel,

is your Deepest Self Aligning

With The Flow.

WIth the Universal Heartbeat.

In Connected Awareness,

Senses and Responsibility Heightened,

wine never tasted so full-bodied,

your Body never felt so Full of Joy.

a gentle touch feels Ecstatic,

and at once you're In Love

with every pair of eyes you meet.

The Valley of the Moon...

where words of Love

Bubble and Pour from your lips,

under hot pink clouds,

resembling visions of

Your Highest,

Most Uninhibited Being.

Your wildest Dreams

become like the wings of doves,

with Inborn Instincts that Follow

and Lead you to Home.

The Valley of the Moon...

where my feet sing,

and my lips dance.

My perspective flipped upside down,

but held firmly with

The Strength and talent of

So many Persistent Adventurers

Alongside Me.

I'm Enveloped in a Kindred Hug

of Understanding,

Fueled by Tenacity and Perseverance,

with an undercurrent of

Uncertainty and Flexibility.

In Their arms,

I am Known.

In Their arms,

I am Home.

With chests raised high,

And hands entwined in Unity,

We Breathe Together,

With Unfailing Belief, Courage and Respect, in

The Valley of the Moon.




JESS COFFMAN


This poem is dedicated to every single person who has put their personal time, talents, positive energy, gratitude and laser focus, into making the Transcendence experience what it is today. 

This poem is especially dedicated to the "Oh, What a Night" cast, crew and volunteers who with grace, persistence and love, make glorious magic for one another, and every guest who is touched by our uplifting performances, in the Jack London State Historic Park. 

This poem seeks to put into words that which is so beautiful and unique about the Valley of the Moon wine region, which is where our Transcendence Theatre Company experience takes place. It is also meant to give the reader, a look into what it feels like for me, to align my personal creative energy with like-minded individuals. We begin each experience together with the intention of sharing our unique gifts and being of service, not only for each other, but for our audiences and ultimately for the greater good. 

I adore the Valley of the Moon and my Transcendence family. 

This was written to be a love poem to both.

Thank-you for reading!

Have a joyous day,

Jess

"Off-Roading" a poem by Jess Coffman

Spellbound and stagnant,

Head cocked to the side, 

In this Sonoma haze, 

In this Sonoma laze. 

I'm completely off-roading, 

Riding wild and fried, 

Not unraveling blind, 

Though not heeding the signs. 

Waking in beauty, 

Without consequence,

In ignorant bliss,

With ignorant kisses.

We frolic and caper

In summer romance, 

Hands up in surrender, 

In worship to chance.

I keep an ear to the wind,

Collecting blue flowers,

Covered in answered prayer, 

Bowed down to, for hours.

But foreseeing from past, 

The road'll call till I'm back, 

And I'll dance in sweet virtue, 

Once I've learned from the lack. 

Though when I lay in blue flowers...

The bees buzz me to sleep. 

Can I dream this to life? 

With my Soul mine to keep? 

So...I spin till I'm dizzy,

The gypsy's lament,

With no roots firmly planted,

In downward decent.

Or, maybe I'm heading, 

Toward Heavenly ascension, 

A skip on the clouds, 

With no road to mention. 

I suppose I'm in fear, 

I'm capricious and waiting,

For these bubbles to pop,

For the heart-sink, and drop.

At once, wistful and quiet 

In this reckless abandon, 

Recalling past kisses

When I threw all my cards in.

And how I withdrew then, 

I picked them slowly, 

My lips hanging lowly,

As I took back my chances.

At sunset's beckoning,

I let worry bow,

And fall to the beauty 

Imbuing us now.

I sip up a breath,

And halt the reckoning.

The overture plays, 

For my life's second act.

I step up to the stage, 

Submit to the beckoning, 

Embrace the Off-Centered,

Unbuckle my knees. 

Swept off of my toes, 

In utter improvisation,

I whirl in wonder, 

And swallow the dream. 

Wholly present, I choose

This gifted hallucination,

And bask in the 

Stunning possibility 

It gleams.

JESS COFFMAN

 

 

  

Hey Friends!

"Off-Roading" was written over the course of about 24 hours, which is a really rare occurrence. I usually get sucked into The Flow of inspiration, and I have to drop whatever I'm doing immediately, to quickly receive and interpret the words. This is why I always have to have my phone charged and a pen and notebook on me, at all times. I never really know when I will be gifted the opportunity to be invited into inspiration. It's not always entirely precarious, I can definitely sit down and write, and feel good about what I have just put down. But there are times, usually when I am stimulated by the beauty of nature or unique experiences, that I enter a kind of euphoric state, where I'm taken over for a period of time. I can feel it coming on, and while I'm in it, I try my best to stay in it, and then I can also feel it receding. It's like a sort of high, and not to be totally crass, but it's akin to different levels of orgasms. Sometimes its totally euphoric and other times it feels good but isn't life changing. Sorry Mom, and other family members...but I'm thirty. 

I am currently in Sonoma, having the most amazing time working for Transcendence Theatre Company. This experience has felt like a honeymoon...partly because there are lots of people here on their honeymoon. But honestly, the people of Transcendence, the people of Sonoma, the marvelous natural landscape, the ability to sing and dance in the stunning Jack London State Historic Park, and the fact that I am so inspired here, has made me recommit to life. Recommit to God. Recommit to health. Recommit to dance. Recommit to insane generosity. Recommit to being weird. And has opened me up to respecting silence, respecting different belief systems, respecting hard work, respecting indulgence, respect for the lack of control in my life, respect for a garden and meat that I consume, respect for making insane dreams come true. And...respect for the mysterious welder/artist who owns Cyclops Ironworks, who is responsible for all of the marvelously weird art you see above. 

And after committing and recommitting myself to so many things, and vowing to respect so many other things, that is when the honeymooning began. I am in love with life right now...and a sparkling red from Paradise Ridge winery, thanks to Jonathan. But every great honeymoon must come to an end...or does it? 

Love, peace and wine, 

Jess