missing the stars

haiku

missing the stars bright

in velvet black clear night sky

so many man-made lights

Mt. Jefferson

Mount Jefferson has hidden

all this time because i was not

giving credit to its being

fifty some miles south of Hood

but yesterday, bright sunshine

was adding luster to its snow cap

and it rose up on my horizon

out of hiding, proud and glorious

falter, new me

falter, stumble, trip

over a crease in the rug

a crack in the sidewalk

a brush with a passerby

or wind-sweep of a standing tree

mere nothing

and yet enough to know

i am unsteady, vulnerable

where once i dashed

from place to place

over furrowed ground

or rock and sandy beach

i am new to me

someone i need to learn

to respect as i am

frustrated packrat

packrat who threw away

just what i need now

only months ago

after ‘saving’ files for decades

arghhhh

bind the moon

haiku

purple cloud stripes cross

pearl-white and rill-shadowed moon

tied to earth's night sky

colorful European facades

European homes

share walls, but build own façades

close line narrow streets

slanted sun highlights

plastered beige,  yellow-white, taupe now blued with first night

                                                mjNordgren 1/1/2026 Rome

inMarseilles harbor

at sunset, tern wheels

white underwing lights burst-orange

tilts, low wing glows gold

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