Excerpts from "Ode On A Grecian Urn," a poem by John Keats

II

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard 

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;

Not to the sensual ear, but more endear'd,

Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave

Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

THough winning near the goal --yet, do not grieve;

She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,

For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

III

Ah, happy, happy bough! that cannot shed

Your leaves, not ever bid the Spring adieu;

And, happy meloldist, unwearied,

Forever piping songs forever new;

More happy love! more happy, happy love!

Forever warm and still to be enjoy'd,

Forever panting, and forever young; 

All breathing human passion far above,

That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,

A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

V

...When old age shall this generation waste,

Though shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,

'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' --that is all 

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

JOHN KEATS

P.S. The photo above was taken while on an adventure, discovering a portion of the Sonoma Creek in Glen Ellen, CA. It is of wild raspberries and mint growing together, among the yellow butterflies and blue dragonflies. Fresh Raspberry Mojitos anyone?

"Growing Old" a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer;
The headstones thicken along the way;

And life grows sadder, but love grows stronger

For those who walk with us day by day.

The tear comes quicker, the laugh comes slower;

The courage is lesser to do and dare;

And the tide of joy in the heart falls lower,

And seldom covers the reefs of care. 

But all true things in the world seem truer,

And the better things of earth seem best,

And friends are dearer, as friends are fewer,

And love is all as our sun dips west. 

Then let us clasp hands as we walk together,

And let us speak softly in low, sweet tone,

For no man knows on the morrow whether

We two pass on --- or but one alone.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

"The Human Touch" a poem by Spencer Michael Free

'Tis the human touch in this world that counts,

The touch of your hand and mine,

Which means far more to the fainting heart

Than shelter and bread and wine;

For shelter is gone when the night is o'er,

And bread lasts only a day,

But the touch of the hand and the sound of the voice

Sing on in the soul alway.

SPENCER MICHAEL FREE

"Sweet Leaf" a poem by Jess Coffman

A silent morning rustling, 

amid the ever-hum of the big city.

Living, rusted, shimmying leaves, 

Without shame in their yearly shift

and decline, 

Yet we human beings, fall into the 

unease of the change. 

Allowing goosebumps on our skin, 

to become a physicalization of the 

unknown fear of a new life season. 

One can't exactly plan change, 

for we all change according to 

our own unique inner pacing. 

But, sometimes we can feel it come on like a wave on the distant ocean, 

not knowing the moment of rumination's break and release.

But with devotion, we can choose to trust the fiercely fervent wind that brings this wave,

and with immense satisfaction, allow it to hold us upright, as we push against it, 

testing it's love like a mischievous child. 

In this, we attempt to welcome abundant life as it roars at us, 

bracing ourselves for it's powerful baptism. 

I, would like to be like the leaf, allowing 

new colors as they come, 

Surrendering the illusion of intentioned will, 

to make my life 

what it must be. 

Rather, I will synchronize by the Great Sowers whisper, 

allowing myself to be stained and washed. 

And enjoy the unprecedented and familiar pigments painted on me, 

as I weather time and accept the truth that we are all hanging with 

divine purpose by God's Grace. 

And like the aging and ever-changing leaf, 

we don't know when we may be plucked, or fulfill our time and 

swirl to our end on the ground, 

being gently escorted by the palms of the wind. 

And on that day, I will roll and cartwheel and run among friends until 

I am collected under the feet of exuberant young children. 

And I hope the last sound I hear, is the laughter of these children as they 

jump and kick and dance on my well-worn and crunchy body.

And I will smile as I deteriorate, and my purpose will be fulfilled. 

And I will consider it all, to have been a blessing, 

And I will consider it all, to have been good. 

JESS COFFMAN

"You are under no obligation to be the same person you were a year, month or even 15 minutes ago. 

You have the right to grow. No apologies." - Unknown 

"him." a poem by Jess Coffman

him.
We're sitting in the exact place, 

Where he first began the smile, 

That's tattooing on my heart.

he is the source of happy sighs. 

he is the capturer of moments of peace for me. 

he is a preserver of rare beauty, 

An accomplice to my whims, 

A gentle wave that swirls in my chest, 

And disassembles my fears. 

A calm silver lining, 

Amidst the heaviness of flow in this place we call home.

Transplants attempting to plant roots in ourselves 

And each other,

But with hearts welded back together by our own unsteady hands. 

"Will moments like this be lost forever like breath in the winter?"

Shadows of sweet holding and vulnerable morning kisses, 

Give hope to a new beginning,

A wise and cautious rebirth. 

I'm whole without him, 

My Soul, a beam of Light that aligns me to my Creator.

But with him, I'm embraced in time, 

Made shiny in his sight. 

What a gift this moment is, 

To look the stunning sunset in it's adoring eye, 

And adore it right back,

To have an unquestioning gut, 
And a Full Heart. 

I close my eyes and feel his eyes on my face, 

Taking me in, 

In Prayer. 

Praying for us and thanking our Creator

For this Gift Of Today. 

I open, and look into his dark eyes, 

Seeing the Light On The Inside. 

And once again I surrender a happy sigh, 

And a silent swirl of Ecstasy. 

JESS COFFMAN

"There are some things that are only meant to be seen 
with your eyes and your soul, 

not to be captured on camera." - B.A.L.M

"In Grateful Love," a poem by Jess Coffman

In Grateful Love

In twisting uncertainty I leapt,

And you opened your arms to me,

In following my searching, though certain heart,

You provided for me,

That which every person seeks,

A home.

You let me cry in your arms,

You let me sleep in your bed,

You invited me to eat at your table,

You listened to far too many bumbling words.

You let my body rest,

When it should have kept working.

And through all of this,

 Your insane compassion and graciousness,

Saved my life.

Steven as Husband, Molly as Wife.

With this love, all things are possible.

All things can change.

Your greatest gift together might be

Your inclination and ability to hold a woman upright,

When she is bonelesss, broken.

You offered time and your intimate space for healing.

With a smile on my face and tears of

Gratitude on my cheek,

I bow to you.

The greatest performances of your lives,

may not be those you gift on the stage,

But the enduring gifts of love that heal others in your presence.

I am forever in debt to you.

A debt that I take on with pride,

As a promise to love you forever,

And use my life as a service to others,

As you have served me.

In loving honor, I celebrate your unbreakable strength together.

May you always choose mercy and devotion with yourselves and the world.

With a healed heart I breathe new life.

JESS COFFMAN

Happy 1 Year Anniversary to Molly and Steven Booth! This amazing couple, embraced me when I was struggling and heart-broken. 

You two have made so much of my happiness this whole year possible, starting with one of the happiest days of MY life, which was at your wedding! 

"Blushed and Awaiting" a poem by Jess Coffman

The fall breeze of possibility and "like" 
at least,
Brush the hot blushed cheeks of my 
smiling face,
And I'm elated.
Unprecedented spastic kinetic energy 
swirls about my breast and
I'm hopeful. 
Unknowing and unloving,
I take chances that I've never taken 
before.
Possibly strong and wrong, 
Until I receive the sweets and 
confirmation of my apologetic and 
gloriously outright communication. 
I hold my upright stance of Wonder,
Affection and Openness. 
Unable to detect if the boldness is
unwanted,
I accept the fear and live regardless.
What is destined will be. 

My heart is in bliss, with wings afloat
on hidden desire and shamelessly
in love with Presence. 
Will I be ashamed ultimately?
There is none to know.
My fingers in a flutter,
I'm disappointed at neglecting my afar guitar. 
But the possible missteps prove
Worthy.
In unabashed anticipation of a 
rising sun and a golden harvest of love,
I giggle and await. 

JESS COFFMAN 

Hello Sweet Friends,

I post this poem today with a full heart. It is so rare that I am moved enough to write a happy love poem/lyrics. A scorned heart is so much easier to write from usually because, I'm generally a happy and positive person. So, it's the moments when I'm devastated or pissed off that stand out, and usually draw words out of me. 

This poem is about the fruits of possibility and my excitement for the unknown. Often times, unknowing can cause anxiety or fear, and I am by no means beyond that. In fact I've been known to have a panic attack or two, from not feeling like I possess enough control over my own life at times. But I was surprised last night to find myself giddy with this idea that I don't have any control over what hasn't played out yet. It was freeing and made me feel fresh and giggly. And...because most of my work is romantically inspired in some way, it would come as no surprise that this one is too. I had begun to feel nervous about getting to know a new person. Not the bad knots in your stomach nervous, the swirling joy in your chest nervous. This was somewhat new for me, and was thrilled to feel inspired enough to write about it. Now, I'm sure you'll be able to figure out the story based on future poems, but for now, everything is red flagless and hopeful. I want to suspend this moment as long as possible, before any disappointments, awkwardness or ending occurs. Cross your fingers and toes with me :)

With a smile and a cotton candy heart,

Jess