Monthly Archives: January 2013


Silent sun in winter’s cold draws hard the crystal white,
refines the edge of focus there, defines a sharper edge to light.

Every step and trace recorded through imprint left in powdered art
so calls the silence in subtle crunch, yet echoes short within the heart
of such a winter’s day.

Every frozen crystal, as if by God so gently placed.
Every dew drop manifest to kindly cling and paint the face
of all I see around me.

Yet every moment held in peace against the winter azure sky,
every temporal piece of life, about its day with a “why” –

So crisp this definition, in what I hold within this season’s frozen fold.

My deep appreciation so bathes my soul in nature’s heart,
leaves me lacking nothing, but knowing this, I am a part
and here I do belong.









Leave a comment

Filed under Nature, Photography, Poetry

Teardrop’s Honor

What teardrop’s lines in honor hold
are more than I can bear,
when witnessed in the eyes of mother’s
weeping through such deep despair.

For them my heart is broken,
for them I give my deepest prayer.
No word or act or motion
can begin to mend the rending there
that claws at love innate,
love born in womb and born of soul
of mothers whose sweet loves, now gone,
shudder every moment on
and shake in disbelief,
fall in heaps of deepest grief
when every moment, every sight
denies their hope, denies their right,
befriends an aching heart to cope,
yet only echoes pain –
of last words spoken, last hug and kiss,
last kindest little token
granted from sweet childhood’s bliss.

Such rage confounds my spirit,
no line of thought can bring the “why”.
I seek for resolution, so absurd,
yet still I try –

What blackness fills this world now?
What mantra does such evil chant?
What sickened heart has found this world?
What soulless evil does it incant?

“Fear not!”, I try to cling to,
as in prayer and in action seek
to persuade a better world around me,
influence hope and love to keep –
Defeat the sickened “ick” of hate,
replace it with the kindest words
that echo only caring,
thus give to life what life deserves –
No senseless tears upon a mother’s cheek…

In reflection of the Newtown, Connecticut Tragedy – 14-Dec-2012

1 Comment

Filed under Memory, Poetry

Melancholy Season

Melancholy reigns this season in,
twixt giving thanks and old year’s end –
oddly, why?

Quiet is the repose of piano echoing through my mind,
haunting hollow of chord resolved to single key left in time.
Fence posts along this lonely lane, silver stark in solitude,
grace the reaching dusty purpose of this road so lined in perpetude.
Strangely lush the season turns as snowfall drapes and smoothes the lines
that converge at road’s surreal horizon that holds the echoed key in time.

Hushed this world becomes, yet holds alive the echoed tune
that plays its chords across my mind and draws me deep into the wound
of season’s stoic standing here.

Silent snow in drifting, flits a gentle welcome within the woods,
so draws a gentle footstep where drift my thoughts to feel the good
of this season’s melancholy, dear.

Poignant keys regard these trees, echoed in my mind and soul,
and so fulfills my aching heart, relieves the winter’s cold.
Here in winter’s wood, between the dance of snow and hush,
the melancholy of this season enrobes my spirit, delivers trust
that tho’ the days reduce to shadows, it’s peace in whispers given here,
that I find solace between the thanks and old year’s end, so near.

There for weeks between, my memory and spirit stay
with echoed keys of one piano, dancing through the thoughts I play.
For it is this season’s purpose to pull my heart to nature’s deep,
grant my soul the love of God, whose whispers and kind heart I keep.
That is why –


Leave a comment

Filed under Nature, Poetry

Brooks 23

The day, in somber grey, yet clear and cold, a January gift, forms a shadowed curtain of question, of what’s uncertain around me and those now standing here. Cold winter’s breeze, broken sun and sienna shadows – coats and scarves and dresses blow, flapping black, midst watery eyes and reddened noses. They wait… we wait… to humbly let us in, by our own stiffened procession, past memory cards, photos, guest register and pen.

In the distance beyond the foyer, his image pronounced largely midst flowers, lights and the wall, past the glass curtain set there. So many, so full, yet behind me the line is eternal, of those here to pay their respect, to trade a sorrowful heart for a memory, trade to hope from regret.
I wonder if I’ve grown calloused, my emotions are real and on my sleeve, but this pain is nothing new to me. So many I’ve given back, so many, so close…

Yet in this crowd of caring souls I see the faces of children I know, now grown, now boldly standing in their own paths – young adults bound here, for this moment, this January afternoon, as one. I see Seth and Alex and Gabe and Chris and Matt and so many more… and Ben… I recall them young, unaware, unafraid, children with a safe home calling – warm, quiet, confident home… Yet today – they stand as men… together and yet alone. Each on their path, seeing the world from their own eyes, through their own life’s experiences. Together, facing a reality none ever expected they’d share. Their faces are long and somber – their youth denies them their age, and moments turn to eons before my eyes – they all look so tired, so old. In these expressions I see their pain, only relieved by the stories of memories shared… of the one now gone… laughter, tears, gasps and grappling for strength to pull them forward… they each see this from different eyes – yet all the same – collectively, as something more beautiful than the whole – it’s love I see – for each other, for life, for what they’ve lost, for the trials, the triumphs, the lessons learned from mistakes – but mostly for the hope that they share, a better strength and hope for tomorrow…

… names are called, and answered in roll… standing one by one, … but one … “Benjamin Scott Brooksmith”… again … again … The momentary silence between the calling crushes my will to endure and the tears come – and like a heaven sent thunder, bagpipes begin… “Amazing Grace” pounds like the beat of a heart in despair… The young men stand there, endure their own grief… some wavering, some grasping to stand steady, some with head hung long, and some tall and accepting… The pipes end and I feel weightless, off the cliff and over the edge – it is done…

We gathered to remember, to share our grief, to find consolation for our souls, to seek an understanding…

We found the strong echoes of love!

I found these children grown, baptized by life, confirmed in peace, and set free as a generation.
The cold day hasn’t changed outside… January sun betrayed by her bitter wind. Hugs and whispers… tears toward the door…

The walk back to my truck is empty – carved hollow by the blank echoes of footsteps – retracting to the fabric of life… moving on in time without choice. The moments have come and gone – only memories remain… … as I drive, it seems that all the world is empty and everyone I see grieves with me, and understands – The music playing seems to speak to my aching heart, my vision of those young faces… every lyric seems pointed in meaning – and the voice there dips in and out of the voices of my long passed brothers, father, mother…

.. the day is grey with January sun and cold… I fell tired, I feel old…

God bless them all –

God bless Ben.

J. Blue – 25-Jan-2010

In loving memory – 3 years later – the young men and women I know, have all risen to the calling of each of their lives, although two more left their midst in that time. I’m proud of them all. Love them all dearly.
J. Blue – 20-Jan-2013

Leave a comment

Filed under Family, Memory, Poetry