Jim Yerman Poems

May we strive from the beginning to keep all children safe
allowing their hearts to sing…
because we know from the simple beauty of small beginnings
can come the greatest things.
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A young boy stopped in the bookstore…he said, "Hello, sir. How are you? I hope you're doing well." On second thought I think he was a teenager…the older I get the harder it is to tell.

"I have a question he whispered." Moving closer in on me. "I promise to be brief. Do you have any books in your store on understanding grief? "
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I saw these two trees on the beach…the two closest to the shore…
that was nothing new, however, I had seen these trees before.

But this morning they seemed different…
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She crawled into her grandma's lap and once there…sharing the same space…
she brushed her tiny fingers across the wrinkles on her grandma's face.

"Why do people grow old, Grandma? " She asked.
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The reasons we call her Mother Earth are easy to concede…not only does she give us life…she provides us everything we need.

If you're not convinced of what I say…from the Earth to the sky above…here are but a few examples…a sampling of our Mother's love:
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"Daddy...what is love? " His daughter asked with innocent, open eyes.
"Of all the miracles in life." he said, "love is the most wondrous surprise."

"Love comes out of nowhere…like a sudden summer rain…each drop of love is different which makes it difficult to explain"
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You never know when the day begins or until it is complete what twists and turns that day may take…or what people you might meet.

Today a nod to fate…or luck…or what many call destiny…this story revolves around two mechanics, some donuts…a soldier…and one dead car battery.
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I remember Grandpa…when our family gathered at his house…as our joy and laughter filled the air…we would always find him smiling…sitting in his favorite chair.

I remember how he'd smile…listening to new stories…or stories we retold…when I was young I figured that's what Grandpas do when Grandpas get that old.
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I thought about Kintsugi this morning while looking in the mirror…feeling old…Kintsugi is the art of repairing cracks and breaks in pottery with lacquer dusted in silver, platinum…and gold.

The philosophy being those breaks and cracks are to be embraced…something everyone should see…a vital part of that pottery's essence…its past…its history.
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I once thought that being an adult meant being a child was no longer allowed…that trying to re-capture our childhood would be like trying to hold on to a cloud.

Now I know each day we rise…as we welcome in a new day…the child in us has been changed…but they are never far away.
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