tattoo

are tattoos sufficient coverage

to disguise the pasty yellow

of dying?

are the young warding off

the terrifying unknown

of death?

or simply decorating to celebrate

what cannot be imagined beyond

being forever young and able?

abject roar

haiku

abject rumble-roar

of machinery muffles

wind stroking cedars

skep

 haiku

tall, dome-topped, woven

of reeds or wicker as hive

treasured honeybees

warm learning

warm orange of embers

a toddler would reach out and touch

how gratefully received that we learn

and can teach our children

about danger

how sad that we often teach them

about our fears, not real danger

but warm colors and beauty

surrounding us calms us to listen

and sometimes learn the difference

so the error may end without pain

or violence

night silence

whispers in the dark of rustling grasses teased by a breeze

scampering feet of rodent seeking food or fleeing

from owl whooshing on nearly silent wing

shepherd adding a small log to a low, crackling fire

as his sons and brothers gently snore and lambs

bleat-whimper to their mothers and grown sheep

harrumph and resettle in their sleep

and then a stillness

a quiet so deep, it speaks of terror of something unknown

unnatural with dread

silence, dead silence that demands alertness to the change

before awareness of distant hum as though of far-off voices

singing, only slowly recognized as praise

and then good news

such good, good news that many could, would not believe

                                                                                mjNordgren  12/14/2025 

vulnerable with letting go

vulnerable with letting go

of health, cognition, physical abilities

confidence and sense of self

difficult not to strike out in defense

of what we thought we once were

so hard to accept the next step

into unknown realms is not an end

but a beginning to presence

without tears

blue influence

blue as primary reaches into my soul

and then extends its sustaining with

combinations of other hues to create

moody gray, with sucking orange

fulfillment teal, with yellow-green

enticing maroon, with imperial red

regal purple, with less imperative red

welcome cedar green, with shy yellow

blues that warm and move me

oft-times unaware of its influence

step into a cloud

i step into a cloud on my deck

where i can barely see the yellow mum

at the far end or the greenhouse

in the back yard of the house below

sunrise colors seep into the white-gray

but give no hint of the eastern horizon

missing from my encroached-on world

and yet experience tells me the rest

of my universe remains as it has been

daylight will emerge as it is able

distant objects will reappear wondering

where i have been and i will believe

again, that i am part of something

greater than myself – thank goodness

busyness as well as business

busyness as well as business

etch at the spirit of the season

blur the edges of our star

darkening its bright pathway

dimming our recognition

of those who would need our love

liturgest

liturgist for church this December

so, extra opportunities to attend

services and read Scripture

i enjoy the story-telling of the season

but I have so little energy for all

else that the season commands

piles

piles here and there

wrapping paper, bows, presents

clothes i hope to take on our trip

in early January

lists of errands to be done

that i seldom remember

to consult before i leave the house

but the chaos is familiar

even somewhat comforting

if i live to be 111, i may

just get it all done

but probably not

pattern

subtle pattern may

spell person-made, but Nature’s

art is ultimate

training and practice

training and practice

until the muscles know

and the mind can slip back

into anonymity

but with aged brain and muscles

the rehearsal time is longer

and far less graceful

something i’ve needed to learn

to chuckle over

a feast of joy

lunch yesterday with writing friends

i had not seen or hugged in years

talking, listening, laughing, inquiring

learning of pain and success, recovery

dreams, hopes, loss and healing

reading a new poem, sharing smiling

with appreciation from deep within

a feast of joy

nature is warning

whispered commands

hush us to listen

or tell us power is elsewhere

and that can be a grave mistake

minute plays

tiny plays, scenes, really

characters interacting

with enough story behind them

to draw you in to care about them

to watch what happens

and how it changes them

as it does, however briefly, us

no human contact

 turning away, face

indifferent to me there

strips me of being

live generously

live generously

is a friend’s company’s motto

that suits her way of life

to fulfillment

it was a joy to hug her

on her birthday

and see again the sparkle

in her eyes as she reaches out

with love

december

haiku

beautiful, green boughs

twinkling, multi-colored lights

seasonal great joy

pale sunrise

haiku

dawn without color

pallor seeping amid clouds

bright white emerges