Wow! A powerful piece to make all of us come and listen.
Do we remember? Or do the memories re-call us? Such great questions.
The frosty atmosphere along with the icicles, and unspoken yet loudly implied memories speak to me of the inner permafrost.
Only the reference to the child afraid of monsters under the bed, a shield bracing against the penetrating sword, and the silent pain, hinting at what has been frozen into numbness under those all devouring blankets of ice, four decades deep.
A masterful poem and poetic prose cutting into the glacial cave of hibernation 🔥🙏 💕
Thanks Veronika! Something gets frozen in those crevices that the light cannot find. In the frozen cold there is a melting. Into that paradox a deeper knowing flows. Reveals. Paints a symbiocene. Hibernation whispering no sounds yet speaking into a song. Thanks for being here. 🙏❤️
Thanks Sam! Something about the hibernation of a deep freeze is trying to speak into that crevice between space and place, time and age. Thanks for reading and for being here. Am loving your writing! 🙏❤️
There’s never coincidences Penn! All things considered. Thanks for reading! Thanks for sharing your magic. Keep slipping between those stars! Thanks for sharing. Keep writing. We need you. 🙏❤️
Hi Jamie, how evocative. Seasons and cycles , how our bodies respond to her seasons and our minds can resist … in the jaws of our childhood imaginings of monsters and in the jaws of the mother as she carries us to another season. And the memories, l love this, ‘the memories seem to be remembering me’. The earth, a sentient being … keeper of our memories. Isn’t water fascinating, her extremes…. In her body, in ours, giver and taker of life. Thank you for this piece ☺️🙏❄️💙
Thanks Simone! I love how water is a reflection of us! As a mirror and an energetic reflection of states! Water remembers. Water knows. I also love these mid season thresholds. Feb 1, May 1, Aug 1, and November 1. Very magical times of in between. Portals to presence. I’m staring at the curtains! Thanks for reaching out. Thanks for being here.🙏❤️
🤣🤣🤣 the curtains 💙😇. Yes, water is definitely a portal. Are you familiar with the work of Kiwi, Veda Austin? She works around showing how water shows its consciousness and memory through patterns in the ice. It is fascinating.
Ice, a numbing protection until we are ready to welcome the thaw, which will cycle round in its own good timing. So much in this, Jamie, thank you.
Minus 40? If it goes below +10 degC here, that cold enough for me. Then again, diving into the sea is always invigorating, or one of the nearby river-beaches, and is a choice I sometimes make to remember the value of 'cold'.
Thanks Josh. Yes those layers of ice do melt away to reveal something underneath that we somehow already know. Those plunges into the cold seem to be part of the journey. I love reading everything you write and the wisdom that you share. Thanks for being here. 🙏❤️
It's as if winter forces us to access ancient memories of living in caves where there's little else to do but just survive the night, while watching life-giving flames flicker and dance on the womb-like walls that hold us tight.
So beautiful, Jamie! I can totally relate and having a power outage in Ireland after a severe storm I definitely feel the cold! Thanks for warming my soul with your beautiful words! As I dress up in layers of clothes I unravel the layers of metaphors that you so artistically used in your writing! Stay warm!
Thank you so much Sadhbh! It looks like that vortex blew over to you too. Stay well and I hope the storm is over. Are storms ever over? Stay warm. Stay safe. May you lean into the unraveling and the weaving, all at the same time. Thanks for being here. 🙏❤️
"In the exile of a hibernation I find myself looking back.
Looking way back. Memories. Memories have been wrapping me. Growing out of me. Memories have been dripping from inside of me like the massive icicles on the roofs."
GORGEOUS! And these lines thawed something within me - a recognition that, yes! I'm experiencing the same. (I had thought the floods of memories were a consequence of the 'shock' at turning 70 this year. How the eff did THAT happen?!!! And yet now I know there is more to it. More - I am, after all, entering Winter.
Thank you so much Jeni! It’s nice to have you here on the stack! Kindred spirits! You are a beautiful writer! Thank you so much for reading and for supporting me 🙏❤️
This is beautiful. Beautifully bleak and beautifully cold and wonderfully swirly. The solitude and shelter you are forced into to. All of it. The words preceding your poem and your poem. Got me right in the rib cage and came leaking out of my eyes because I can FEEL what you wrote.
Memories...I think it's both. We remember them and they remember us.
I trust a heavy, soft, warm blanket and some hot cocoa will warm you, inside and out, when the memories drift away again. Sending you warm hugs!! Thank you for sharing. XO
Thanks Jo! Nothing too disturbing. Just a looking back. A necessary angel. The ice always melts. The days are getting longer. Thanks for reading and for reaching out. Blessings 🙏❤️
Wow! A powerful piece to make all of us come and listen.
Do we remember? Or do the memories re-call us? Such great questions.
The frosty atmosphere along with the icicles, and unspoken yet loudly implied memories speak to me of the inner permafrost.
Only the reference to the child afraid of monsters under the bed, a shield bracing against the penetrating sword, and the silent pain, hinting at what has been frozen into numbness under those all devouring blankets of ice, four decades deep.
A masterful poem and poetic prose cutting into the glacial cave of hibernation 🔥🙏 💕
Thanks Veronika! Something gets frozen in those crevices that the light cannot find. In the frozen cold there is a melting. Into that paradox a deeper knowing flows. Reveals. Paints a symbiocene. Hibernation whispering no sounds yet speaking into a song. Thanks for being here. 🙏❤️
“The waning and shrivelling late January moon reflects any meagre light that the cold has not devoured.
The ice whispers my name. She has not forgotten.”
there’s so much here, before you get to the poem. beautiful writing, Jamie.
Thanks Sam! Something about the hibernation of a deep freeze is trying to speak into that crevice between space and place, time and age. Thanks for reading and for being here. Am loving your writing! 🙏❤️
Coincidence? I just posted these lines:
"before cycles
start up again we all can fall through
cracks. Interstices of ice drag us down
We slip between stars"
From "All Things Considered"on https://vernacularjournal.com/All-Things-Considered
There’s never coincidences Penn! All things considered. Thanks for reading! Thanks for sharing your magic. Keep slipping between those stars! Thanks for sharing. Keep writing. We need you. 🙏❤️
Hi Jamie, how evocative. Seasons and cycles , how our bodies respond to her seasons and our minds can resist … in the jaws of our childhood imaginings of monsters and in the jaws of the mother as she carries us to another season. And the memories, l love this, ‘the memories seem to be remembering me’. The earth, a sentient being … keeper of our memories. Isn’t water fascinating, her extremes…. In her body, in ours, giver and taker of life. Thank you for this piece ☺️🙏❄️💙
Thanks Simone! I love how water is a reflection of us! As a mirror and an energetic reflection of states! Water remembers. Water knows. I also love these mid season thresholds. Feb 1, May 1, Aug 1, and November 1. Very magical times of in between. Portals to presence. I’m staring at the curtains! Thanks for reaching out. Thanks for being here.🙏❤️
🤣🤣🤣 the curtains 💙😇. Yes, water is definitely a portal. Are you familiar with the work of Kiwi, Veda Austin? She works around showing how water shows its consciousness and memory through patterns in the ice. It is fascinating.
Thanks! I’ve only read Masaru Emoto’s work. I will check her out. 🧊 ❤️
Thank you, l haven’t read his work, Veda does mention him in her interviews. She inspired me to get a Petri dish 🤣❄️🧊💦💧🙏🏼💙
I don’t know why l can’t upload the photo in this space so l will send it to your message, and to Geraldine
I do now! thanks Simone for sharing Veda Austin, fascinating for sure, and really in a sense not surprising. More soon, x G
Her work is amazing. I actually have a photo of Gracie the magpie which is in the ice image after l put the Petri dish in the freezer. A wow 🤩.
Now you are giving me chills lol
What. . .! I’m a newbie to this magic! O yeah, I learn fast!
Sweet!
Will send you the ice photo in message
Ice, a numbing protection until we are ready to welcome the thaw, which will cycle round in its own good timing. So much in this, Jamie, thank you.
Minus 40? If it goes below +10 degC here, that cold enough for me. Then again, diving into the sea is always invigorating, or one of the nearby river-beaches, and is a choice I sometimes make to remember the value of 'cold'.
Thanks Josh. Yes those layers of ice do melt away to reveal something underneath that we somehow already know. Those plunges into the cold seem to be part of the journey. I love reading everything you write and the wisdom that you share. Thanks for being here. 🙏❤️
Beautiful and evocative, Jamie! 🤍
It's as if winter forces us to access ancient memories of living in caves where there's little else to do but just survive the night, while watching life-giving flames flicker and dance on the womb-like walls that hold us tight.
Thanks Jacqueline! What a beautiful poetic response. Thank you for reading. Dancing on the womb like walls. Holding tight. Leaning in. Blessings. 🙏❤️
Captivated by this magical piece. 🤍❄️
Thank you so much Grace! I appreciate the kind words and for you stopping by for a read. 🙏❤️
So beautiful, Jamie! I can totally relate and having a power outage in Ireland after a severe storm I definitely feel the cold! Thanks for warming my soul with your beautiful words! As I dress up in layers of clothes I unravel the layers of metaphors that you so artistically used in your writing! Stay warm!
Thank you so much Sadhbh! It looks like that vortex blew over to you too. Stay well and I hope the storm is over. Are storms ever over? Stay warm. Stay safe. May you lean into the unraveling and the weaving, all at the same time. Thanks for being here. 🙏❤️
“The pain makes no sound
All of me has come -
to listen.”
JEEZ, that’s powerful.
Thanks for reading and for reaching out Eric! Some things definitely speak loudest in the silence. Blessings 🙏❤️
"The present has retreated into the frozen
coagulation of time. Only memories survive
the exile. Memories. Bundled up in layers
of the past that wrap me in the mist
of my own breath clinging to me
like a small child afraid of what is underneath the bed. "
Yes.
The warm air from my breath doesn’t wanna leave my body! 🙏❤️
"In the exile of a hibernation I find myself looking back.
Looking way back. Memories. Memories have been wrapping me. Growing out of me. Memories have been dripping from inside of me like the massive icicles on the roofs."
GORGEOUS! And these lines thawed something within me - a recognition that, yes! I'm experiencing the same. (I had thought the floods of memories were a consequence of the 'shock' at turning 70 this year. How the eff did THAT happen?!!! And yet now I know there is more to it. More - I am, after all, entering Winter.
Thank you so much Jeni! It’s nice to have you here on the stack! Kindred spirits! You are a beautiful writer! Thank you so much for reading and for supporting me 🙏❤️
Dearest Jamie,
This is beautiful. Beautifully bleak and beautifully cold and wonderfully swirly. The solitude and shelter you are forced into to. All of it. The words preceding your poem and your poem. Got me right in the rib cage and came leaking out of my eyes because I can FEEL what you wrote.
Memories...I think it's both. We remember them and they remember us.
I trust a heavy, soft, warm blanket and some hot cocoa will warm you, inside and out, when the memories drift away again. Sending you warm hugs!! Thank you for sharing. XO
Thanks Danielle. A necessary angel. Thanks for being here. Words rise. Words release. Words reveal. Words heal. Blessings 🙏❤️
Frigid but extremely beautiful. I love your descriptions here of winter and memories. Keep warm, my friend ❤️
Thank you so much for reading Jenn! Your paintings melt that ice! 🙏❤️
My pleasure, and thank you! Art and creating are powerfully forces ❤️
washed white under heavy blankets of snow, 40 degrees below, hibernating, retreating: this is a beautiful icy cold contemplation Jamie.
Despite the disturbing memories, the landscape sounds beautiful. And that silence allowing for the past to float forth. ❤️
Thanks Jo! Nothing too disturbing. Just a looking back. A necessary angel. The ice always melts. The days are getting longer. Thanks for reading and for reaching out. Blessings 🙏❤️
The perfect poem to read as I sit next to the space heater, house at 58 degrees, as I wait for a new furnace to be installed two days from now. Brrrr.
Stay warm Carole! Thanks for reading! Blessings 🔥❤️
Thanks, Jamie. I’m trying to be patient. I have a whole new appreciation for warmth.
Bless you some electric heaters til then! 🙏🙏🙏
“The ice whispers my name. She has not forgotten.”
That’s a “killer line” and stands out impressively flash bright white cold light.
It’s also a stellar plot for a film, given the times of climate crisis!
Thanks! I’ve been having fun with the poetic prose as much as the poems. The ice knows some secrets too. Bless you.
Gorgeous Sir Jamie!
P.S. I comment as I listen and read!
Thank you so much Geraldine! I appreciate you 🙏❤️