Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
You Are Light – A Poem
* For my Wonder Mom In Law on her Birthday. ❤
You are a bright candle.
Your light fills up the room
and brightens the lives
of those that surround you.
Your light chases away the shadows
and illuminates the night.
The light that comes from you
makes stars come alive in envy,
for they could never shine
as brightly as you do.
You’ve shown me a world of kindness,
as you’ve shown all the others in your life.
Though there are times
where darkness and shadow reign,
your light helps those around you
shine brightly just like you.
It takes strength to shine
in the face of shadows
and our lives are made better
because of your presence.
You are a bright candle
that fills up our lives
with light and love
and I am so thankful for you.
Thank you for shining
so brightly.
Mollyhouse Issue 3 – Out Now!
I had the honour of having one of my poems included in the new issue of Mollyhouse.
It’s an online magazine of poetry and prose and I’m so happy to have had my poem included. Here’s a bit about Mollyhouse Issue 3:
This third issue of Mollyhouse features poetry and prose by writers who are not from this group: white hearing able-bodied heterosexual cisgender men. The issue is edited by Raymond Luczak.
This third issue of Mollyhouse features artwork by Aleatha Lindsay as well as poetry and prose by Ken Anderson | Mark Bromberg | Brad Buchanan | Jackie Chou | David Cummer | Beau Denton | Francis Goodman | Cait Gordon | Randall Ivey | J. Ivanel Johnson | Lilah Katcher | Travis Chi Wing Lau | Van Ethan Levy | Stephen Lightbown | Cali Linfor | A’Ja Lyons | Mary McGinnis | Daniel Edward Moore | Maurice Moore | Cath Nichols | Naomi Ortiz | Felice Picano | Steven Riel | Gregg Shapiro | Karl Sherlock | Nicole Taylor | Antonio Vallone | Patricia Walsh | Mark Ward | Jamieson Wolf | Kathi Wolfe | Dan Yorty. This issue is edited by Raymond Luczak.
My poem is called The Red Thread and it’s easy to find, it’s the last piece in the magazine before the author bios!
The best part? You can read it for free!
Download your copy here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1094874
My poem is the last one before the author bios. I truly hope you enjoy all of the words in Mollyhouse Issue 3!
The Power of Words – A Poem
When I open my eyes,
I am in the dark forest again.
The trees around me sigh
as if they are content to have me
returned to them.
I wander among the trees
that I know so well
but it is as if I am seeing them
from a distance.
I can hear a song calling me
and it is taking me deeper
into the forest than I have been before.
I wonder if I’ve walked to the very centre?
It doesn’t surprise me
that there are places within the trees
I do not know. The dark forest
has always been good at changing,
shifting its shape,
until I could not find my way home.
The song pulls me through the trees.
It is as if my feet know the way,
or they’ve been there before.
I often slept within the forest,
who knows where my dreams took me
when I lived within these trees.
The song stops when I find myself
standing in front of a tree
that is unlike any of the others.
There are wide shelves
carved into its trunk
and on the shelves are books
of every shape and size,
all kinds of colours and they
look like jewels in the shadows
of the trees, so foreign and unusual
among the darkness and shadows.
I reach out with a trembling hand
and take a book off the shelf.
When I open it,
words begin to flow from the pages,
stirred by a light breeze that surrounds me.
I can read the words husband, lifetime and love.
When I open another, I can read the words family, support and togetherness.
I open a third and it says creative, ink and paint.
Looking upward, I can see all these words and more
swirling above my head. Thousands of words
filter into the leaves of the blood trees
and as I watch, I can see sun beginning
to shine through the leaves.
I see that the light
which is filtering through the trees,
and as I look, I can see the light
pointing to the way out of the dark forest.
The leaves shrink from the light,
afraid of the lights touch.
I look back to where I came from,
full of shadows and the promise of pain.
I look forwards to where the light
is guiding me and I know that,
though there are still shadows along the path,
the light will lead to safety.
I pull one more book from the shelves
so that I can take it with me
and when I open it, I can see one word
written on its pages:
joy.
I clutch the book to my chest
and walk to where the light
is guiding me home.
The Circle of the Moon – A Poem
I am sitting outside of the forest.
I don’t feel like going in
and losing myself within its branches
as it whispered sweet nothings to me.
Instead, I find myself
walking around the edge of the trees,
remembering what it took from me
and what I willingly gave away.
I look up when I see the moon
winking at me through the leaves.
As I walk, the moon moves with me,
giving me light so that I can see in the
darkness. I try to outrun it,
comfortable in with the shadows,
however the moon leads around the trees
until I find a pool of water.
In all of the years I spent in the forest,
I never knew there was a body of water here.
The moon shines down on the grass,
blades so dark they are black.
I sit where the moon shines,
so that I am within the circle of the moon.
Around me, there are flowers growing
within the grass. A breeze moves through the air,
it fills my head with a comfortable whispering.
The moon shifts slightly within the trees
so that it shines upon the water, and I lean forward.
I look at myself, at the lines on my face that mark
the journey I’ve taken to get here to this moment.
Dipping my fingers into the water,
I watch as the me within the water ripples,
and pulls itself back together,
slowly making the cracks disappear
until my reflection is whole again.
I remained there for some time, watching as flowers fall into the water
with the same thing occurring each time,
broken, together, cracked, whole, fractured, complete.
The water reminds me that though things may seem broken within,
I am not within the trees of the forest or lost within myself.
Letting my fingers dip into the waters
one final time, I stand and walk back
in the direction I came.
I walk back towards whatever will come,
knowing that I am ready.
The moon winks at me from within the leaves,
and I know too that this is part of my journey.
I merely need to remember
that the moon and the river are within me
and that this is only part of my journey.
I have so much further to go,
following the light of the moon
so that I can find
the stars.
One Thousand Wishes – A Poem
I didn’t believe magic was real until I met you.
I had been wishing for so long
that the sky above my home
was filled with thousands of stars,
each of them a wish I had made.
They were all the same wish:
I wanted a man who would love all of me,
one who would see me,
when I couldn’t see myself.
Over time, I began to wonder
if the wish would ever come true,
but still I hoped, still I yearned.
I began to lose my faith in magic,
in the power of a wish.
As more time passed,
I stopped believing in magic,
and the stars that shone in the sky above me
reminded me of all the years that I had hoped
and that hope had gone unheeded.
The stars would take to following me,
flowing through the sky like water
as I went about my day,
always shining down upon me,
trying to get me to believe again.
When we met,
the stars began to hum in excitement.
While we talked,
the stars began to shine a little brighter.
Later, when we kissed,
the stars began to hum.
When we went outside and stood under them,
the stars danced for us,
filling the sky with brilliant light.
It was at that moment that I realized something,
magic takes time.
I’d like to think it was the strength of my wish which
brought you to me, that the stars had been searching for you
for all this time and when they saw you,
they wrapped themselves around you and
gently pushed us together.
I got my wish when you came into my life.
You taught me to believe.
in magic again and that belief is reaffirmed
every time I look
into your eyes.
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Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 