The Wounded Heart (poetry)

By: JANA GREENE

When I find myself in too much pain,
and the world is caving in;
when my heart is truly shattered,
and I don’t think I’ll smile again,
I shake my fists at God a while,
have my ravings and my rants.
He listens to my agony,
my “I WON’T”s and “I CANT’S.”
I forget that Source knows firsthand
because He wrapped himself in skin,
and His heart was once a gaping wound
just like mine has been.
When I’m hemorrhaging emotion,
His heart is bleeding right along,
when I can hear only chaos,
His comfort soothes me like a song.
Oh Creator of this worn heart,
Source of all that’s pure true,
please let my pain have purpose.
Let it make me more like You.

Love Bears the Only True Witness

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By: JANA GREENE

When people say

you’re “fake”

because you practice

loving all,

That’s just because

living out

a love like that

feels fake to them.

And it feels fake to them,

Because they

cannot find God

outside of the

red and black words

of ancient texts,

or outside of the

dogma of men,

(Or outside of themselves.)

An acceptance so broad,

so scandalous,

That’s what will change

the world,

Just one authentic act

after another.

So live out that love,

Let them think what they will.

But pray they might also

find God one day,

Outside of texts

(and dogma too.)

Maybe – just maybe –

One fine day, they will even

find God in YOU.

Poetry · Spiritual

Ode to Social Media

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By: JANA GREENE

I crave connection.

Standing in the gas station,

getting me a tank-full.

I never met a stranger,

and for that I am so thankful.

At the grocery check out,

waiting in a line,

please tell me your life story

and I will tell you mine!

I’m grateful for the “socials,”

because they tend to shrink

this planet that we live on,

and oftentimes I think

what an absolute marvel

technology has become!

Together we grow,

together we rise,

together we come undone.

I crave human connection

because there’s One Love,

you see.

Divinity is our DNA,

it’s for freedom we are set free.

Poetry · Spiritual

Sit With This Moment (poetry)

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By: JANA GREENE

Settle in with the guest named “This Moment,”

and put your feet up for awhile.

Denying it’s message will do no good,

and giving up just just isn’t your style.

Tell the uninvited feeling of ick,

“I see you’ve come again,.

I can’t avoid you altogether,

but learn from you I CAN.”

Sit with This Moment now my friend,

(I promise you’ll survive!)

and This Moment

will hold the door open

for Peace when it arrives.

Poetry · Spiritual

Love is the Main Thing (poetry jam)

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By: JANA GREENE

When I pass on,

I don’t want them to say,

“To know her was to love her.”

I’d rather they say,

“To know her was to be loved by her.”

I hope I make you feel seen,

I hope I make you feel heard.

I hope you can feel the love coming

for miles away.

God,

make me an instrument of your peace,

in a warring world.

Your will front and center,

above my ego and anxiety,

dogma and theology,

legalism and judgement.

Help me love others

so that they can feel accepted

right where they are.

Worthy in total,

wholly complete.

If I err on the side of love,

I can stand before the throne

unfettered by all else,

Because Love?

Yeah, that’s the main thing.

God,

when I pass on,

I don’t need to them to say

she was loved by all,

I just need to do the loving,

In order that they will feel loved

by you.

Poetry · Spiritual

Ladybug and Ant: a little poetry jam

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You matter. You’re a very big deal. You bring strength and beauty to this world; thanks for that. May we lean into each other and look out for one another. Blessed be.

By: JANA GREENE

“I want to be big,”

said Ladybug,

And Ant said,

“Why, you already are!

you’re covered in dots –

you’ve the most beautiful spots!

And you’re bigger than me by far.”

“Well you are strong,”

said Ladybug,

“You lift such heavy grains.

And you’ve so many friends,

your hill’s full of them!

You’ve enough

to form a whole chain!”

“I’ve one more now,”

Ant said to her,

“You’re just the right size

for a friend.”

So they bugged out together,

(no need for fair weather,)

side by side

through the leaves and the stems.

Poetry · Spiritual

Speak Your Truth – a little poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

Your truth is just as valid

as theirs,

Dear One.

Even when

you’ve come undone.

Even if you’ve been shushed,

(perhaps especially then!)

Even though you were rushed

to grow up and validate them.

Trust in yourself,

Dear One,

Because your voice is true.

So stop worrying about the haters,

those rude commentators,

and be authentically YOU,

Poetry · Spiritual

Speak Your Truth – a little poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

Your truth is just as valid

as theirs,

Dear One.

Even when

you’ve come undone.

Even if you’ve been shushed,

(perhaps especially then!)

Even though you were rushed

to grow up and validate them.

Trust in yourself,

Dear One,

Because your voice is true.

So stop worrying about the haters,

those rude commentators,

and be authentically YOU,

Poetry · Spiritual

The Great Opening – a spiritual poem

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Photo by Susanne Jutzeler, suju-foto on Pexels.com

Byh: JANA GREENE

They say I’ve changed,

and they don’’t like it.

Isn’t it a shame, they say.

She used to be a “good” Christian.

And I was, because I was

striving to DO, instead of BE.

“You’ve changed”

is said in negative observation,

as if circumstances don’t change,

as if life stands still.

As if pretending ten thousand things

didn’t happen to me

between the ages of 34 and 54

(or heck, even between 53 and 54!)

But they don’t know

that it is raw and permeating love

that tripped me up in the first place.

Acceptance for ALL?

Heretic! they say.

But either God is love

or He’s not,

and the truth is,

when I tripped over the concept

of unconditional love,

I fell into a vat of it,

rich, and thick, and endless.

I found my tribe in that vat,

and we synchronize- swim

together in that great,

copious pool of love,

free and unfettered.

We landed in the arms

of a loving God, you see,

faith in what matters intact.

In my heart of hearts now,

I know

that on the deepest level,

there is no such thing

as separation.

Not one from another,

and certainly not from

and the Father,

or the Son.

or the Holy Spirit.

So I try to see others

through the lens of that

unseparateness.

And sometimes I fail.

But at the end of the day,

I would rather be

a heretical lover of people

than a bitter

but self-righteous believer.

The confounding dualism

that most of Christendom lives by

kept me spiritually stagnant

for too long,

and prevented me from being

my most authentic self;

a version of me

I’ve never known.

Somehow by proxy

it made me unknowingly

inauthentic with God, too,

who was good with me

in the first place.

So…

When others read the sacred texts

from thousands of years ago

to support their narrative

of exclusion,

they do so from a lofty cherry-picker,

proud and righteous.

That used to be my narrative too.

But I’m not too good at

picking cherries.

I tried for years,

dizzy from the heights,

hands stained with the juice,

that I considered somehow

also the blood of Jesus.

I prefer the fruits of the Spirit, you see,

to forbidden apples and

unreachable cherries.

Yes… I’ve changed.

That’s the truth.

But perhaps we are meant to.

Maybe there is a Great Opening

in the realms we cannot see

that will be the catalyst

to understanding

the world we can see.

Love opens your whole soul up!

And I think I’d rather

have an open spirit –

a great and gaping

cavernous heart

that’s big enough for everyone –

than be a “good Christian”

by the standards of this world,

which – by the way – God so loves.

He so loves YOU, too.

Blessed be.

Poetry · Spiritual

Keep Going, Kiddo (pt. 2 – a Poem)

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By: JANA GREENE

Keep going, Kiddo.

I know that it’s hard

when you’ve been taught all your life

not to let down your guard

and that it’s wise to be

afraid of me.

Keep going, Kiddo.

Only good shall be.

Keep going, Kiddo,

when your mind is tired,

and your spirit exhausted

and your body mired

in limitations and constant lack.

Keep going, Kiddo.

I’ve got your back.

Keep going, Kiddo

don’t throw in the towel

when all your plans run afoul,

when nothing else is going right,

Keep going, Kiddo,

I’m holding you tight.

I’m not waiting to unleash

judgement on you,

because “it is finished”

means it is through.

So rest, my child,

we’re not separate, you see.

I’m already in you.

And you’re already in me.

Keep going, Kiddo.

Poetry

The Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Dance – a poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

The foot bone’s connected to the leg bone,

but the joint in between them protests.

“Ankle here,” it says. “And I’m wobbly,

I think perhaps you should rest.”

But no time for that, I say, holding on to my cane.

The leg bone’s connected to the knee.

And to say it fairly,

those knees are barely

even attached to me.

The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone,

and true, the bone won’t bend,

but where the thigh bone connects to the hip bone,

that socket pops out and back in.

The hipbone’s connected to the backbone

and they don’t really get along.

Where the backbone’s connected to the neck bone,

it doesn’t feel too strong.

And that neckbone connected to the head,

where all my worries are made,

If dem joints dem joints gonna walk around,

I’ll need a mobility aide.

So, strike a Gumby pose with me,

pop and crack in a stance,

for all the ableist world to see

your Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Dance!

Poetry · Spiritual

Healing Arts Heal Hearts

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By: Jana Greene

Yesterday was ridiculous

So I gave in to capriciousness,

And spent the whole day in bed.

I had a party of the pity kind,

Got stuck in my own flitty mind,

Paralyzed by whatever lay ahead.

Today, self care will not look the same,

Instead of practicing that old self-blame,

I think I’ll channel worry into art.

It may not fix my woes

But it might lift my lows,

And give hope a boost in my heart.

Because life ain’t for the faint,

I use words and paint

To express what lies in my heart.

Because life is ridiculous

We must be meticulous

Caring for ourselves though our art.

Poetry · Spiritual

Healing Arts Heal Hearts

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By: Jana Greene

Yesterday was ridiculous

So I gave in to capriciousness,

And spent the whole day in bed.

I had a party of the pity kind,

Got stuck in my own flitty mind,

Paralyzed by whatever lay ahead.

Today, self care will not look the same,

Instead of practicing that old self-blame,

I think I’ll channel worry into art.

It may not fix my woes

But it might lift my lows,

And give hope a boost in my heart.

Because life ain’t for the faint,

I use words and paint

To express what lies in my heart.

Because life is ridiculous

We must be meticulous

With caring for self though our art.

Poetry · Spiritual

The Purpose and Pain – a Poem for the Struggling

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By: JANA GREENE

I have heard it said

that existence is pain,

and that the act of waking up

can be heroic.

Both are true, you see,

on this big blue marble

that we call home,

Wearing these Earth Suits,

prone to disease, disaster, dysfunction,

ill-fitting and troublesome,

here on our training ground.

Mostly things don’t add up,

or seem to have order,

or any logic at all.

So we wander like orphans,

feeling alone,

pain clutched to our chests,

tears in our eyes,

asking one another if anything

makes sense.

Everyone has a little of the Truth,

but no one earthly has it all.

So I clutch those truth bits

with white knuckles,

wondering if I have

any truth of my own to give.

“I can’t stand the pain!”

I yell to no one in particular,

and then to God himself.

I don’t know why in

that specific order,

just learning, I guess.

But learn I must because

here I am,

waking up anyway.

The Intelligence who

thought we were a good idea

has not changed his mind.

Somehow,

pain or no pain,

worldly understanding

notwithstanding,

God is spinning the planets,

and making eternity out of stars.

He reminds me,

(when I bother to really listen,)

that I am just as infinite as both.

My orbit is just a bit wobbly,

but maybe it’s part of the dance.

Maybe the wobbles

are where we learn.

So into the mystic I go,

using the pain to propel me,

as the stars give evidence,

of the vast scale of his love;

his vast love for me.

So you see,

we CAN do “this” again.

Just for today, until tomorrow,

when we get to choose

to do it again.

This day is made

not for the pain

but for us;

for rising again, not as orphans,

made of skin, bones,

and aches and pains,

but as Beloveds.

The Universe above

to watch over us,

The Universe below

to catch us in our unsteadiness,

The Universe beside us,

to walk out the pain in real time,

and best of all,

The Universe inside us, unsquelched,

in the ultimate cosmic camaraderie.

Poetry · Spiritual

Keep Going (Anyway) – a little poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

You are loved,

I promise it’s true,

Even though the world

Keeps doling out anew

Difficult things,

The losses of man,

Just keep going,

I know you can.

Keep holding on

And I will too.

Hand in hand

We shall get through,

Together

And with Love as our Guide,

We’ll get through this season,

Me and you.

Poetry · Spiritual

Undone

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By: JANA GREENE

She used to be such a “good” Christian,

Proverbs 31 to the core.

But then she listened to the voice

Who told her to want more.

“More of you, God!”

She would say.

“I’m striving hard, you see!”

“”Why are you striving

So hard, child,

Cannot you simply be?“

The war she fought within herself

Had already been won.

And when she finally

Understood,

She became undone.

“But I must be holy” she said.

And pleasing to your sight!”

“Have I not told you, child,

You’re already salt and light?

And do you not remember,

I’ve already

Won the fight?”

And in the end of warring,

She was learning just to be.

Slowly,

And with great surrender,

She realized she was free.

Poetry

How to Spend Time with God (spoiler alert: Just BE) – a little poetry jam

January 27, 2023 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

“What’s the best way to spend time with God?”

Was the question asked of me.

Which seemed odd

Because my God

Is never an absentee.

I thought the right devotional,

Holy coffee at first morning light,

Following all the rules and laws,

Was a formula for winning the fight.

But now God and I,

Thick as thieves,

Do life together every day.

Every breath is spending time,

Plain speak is how I pray.

I hear his voice in the laughter

Of my beloved friends and kin,

I hear him in the cries,

Of suffering women and men.

He cooks with me in the kitchen,

He follows me to the shop,

We have constant conversations,

Impossible to stop.

A reverie of souls,

Because we’re ONE, you see.

I cannot be away from him,

And he won’t stay away from me.

I need no formal reason

To label time with my Source.

He’s in every place,

Runs every race,

By my side, of course.

Here’s how to spend time with God

If you’re asking me:

Take a deep and healing breath

And just manage to BE.

Poetry · Spiritual

Mystics, Sages (and a love for the Ages) – poetry

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This piece is a labor of love.
Life is so heavy right now. I choose to believe that God is up to his old tricks or radical grace and wonder. I just have to keep choosing that every day, sometimes moment by moment.

By: JANA GREENE

Give me the mystics,

The seekers,

The sages.

And as we study

our sacred pages

for wisdom to guide

our every foot-fall,

“Love one another” is

Most important is all.

Focus on each blessing,

Always favor light,

Keep sharing your heart,

And I’ll keep sharing mine.

Let us choose to believe

that in the end,

God is up to his radical

goodness again.

Love always swings harder,

Love conquers all,

Love comes in first.

And survives every fall.

So I stay Hopeful as a hippie,

in this war-torn place,

As open as a Book

About this deep and messy grace.

May the secrets

Of the enlightened wise,

Be generous

To our wondering eyes.

Let us dare to ask questions,

Beyond any fear.

So you say you have doubts?

Well, you’re welcome here!

Yes, give me the mystics,

The seekers the sages,

And they will direct you

To a Love for the ages.

A perfect love,

For all the ages.

Poetry · Spiritual

Reverence Remix (a poetry jam)

January 7, 2023 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

Whisper in church, they say.

Be REVERENT in this place,

Shake the hands,

Bow your head,

Pull the mask over your face.

But to revere

Is not to fear,

And no walls contain it’s form.

We are never called to a stillness

To which we can’t conform.

I find that nature

Brings out the reverence in me.

The ocean a temple,

Living water in the seas.

Ebbing and flowing,

Aching with glory,

Nature is where

I write my life’s story.

Give me the forest,

Life pulsing with force,

Growth and blossoming

Running a perfect course.

Reverence is a deer

Pausing by a creek.

Reverence is found in every tear

Falling down a mourner’s cheek.

It’s a whole-body hug,

Hearts so close together,

Synching up a holy,

Hallowed and sacred tether.

Reverence is presence

Living in the now,

With no particular regard

For life’s when’s, why’s, and hows.

The Earth is sacrosanct,

Every inch sacred ground,

And there in that sweet majesty,

I find God all around.

Poetry · Spiritual

Ode to Jeggings

November 6, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

And now to lighten things up a bit, a silly poem to cheer you. Blessed be!

Leggings, I’m so grateful
That someone saw fit to create you –
Love child of jeans and sweatpants
Oh how I appreciate you!
Thanks for your stretchy waistband
So I don’t have to suck It in,
Thank you for the mad skills you have
Of making me look thin.
You’re available at Walmart
For just eleven dollars,
And with you in every color,
I can feel like quite the baller.
I can wear you as pajamas,
I can wear you as yoga pants,
And if I were so inclined,
I could wear you to break dance.
You don’t smush my muffin top
Like jeans are apt to do,
But rather gently hug it,
(so damn merciful of you.)
Thanks for being comfy,
And having pockets in the rear,
And for being so soft and warm,
You’re my favorite pants to wear.