Will I Stand Up?

by Jane Tawel

Peter Muscutt on Unsplash

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Will I Stand Up?

By Jane Tawel

February 2, 2025

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Will I stand up,

if courage fails?

If lies prevail

and all seems lost?

*

Will I stand up

when others scoff?

When I’m cast off

as weak and frail?

*

Today I stand

upon The Rock

and weep to see

a House once strong,

now willful, prideful

tearing down

its firm foundations

its Cornerstone,

erecting bent beliefs

on shifting sands.

*

Will I stand up

when hope is torn

from bleeding Heart

from bleeding Hands?

No — 

I shall fall…

But I will raise

No flag,

No creed,

No weapon but,

The Banner of

God’s Love for All,

Yes! — “All!” I’ll cry,

with my last breath,

and though I can not stand — 

I’ll crawl.

*

© Jane Tawel

Crossing the Road on The Way

by Jane Tawel

heino eisner — unsplash

Crossing the Road on The Way

By Jane Tawel

January 26, 2025

*

Resting my head on small, fragile hands,

too fragile to hold the world up.

What would happen if I dropped the world?

What would happen if I gave my thoughts 

 — Up?

*

Holding my heart,

pushing it deeper within.

Stunting or fronting true selves.

Who would I be if I opened the cage?

What would emerge if my heart was set free?

How much Love can a soft heart give?

Why, All the Love that there is.

*

Embracing the shattered,

the least and the lost,

Inside me — 

but also in them.

How would I live?

 if I–

Stopped.

Looked.

and Listened……..

before crossing the road

On The Way?

*

© Jane Tawel, 2025

Fall and Flow

by Jane Tawel

Fall and Flow

By Jane Tawel

January 22, 2025

*

Beginning — 

A bud appears on a dung heap

Beauty despite, beauty despite….

Somehow from garbage,

New birth.

New shoots reach up

from old roots,

Searching

Dreaming

Creating Hope.

*

Stay small,

as small as you can be.

In this Un-brave New World,

find your courage in

laughter,

meekness,

small acts of kindness.

Become curious.

Be curious only about — 

What you can see

What you can smell

What you can taste

What you can hear

What you can touch.

Keep your focus on

What you can experience in this moment

and perhaps, what you can change.

Nothing but what is real for you

needs to intrude on your reality.

*

Use your fear wisely

and then fear not.

This is not the beginning of the end.

This is the end of yet another beginning.

Many have come and gone before

And for you, there is only — 

This time

This place

This now

This task.

Find those to whom

you alone can help,

find those to whom you

would do unto

as you would have them do

unto you.

*

Herein, lies peace.

Trust that you can fight for right,

and stand up for Goodness

but only where you are planted.

Be a beautiful small flower.

The garbage is only here

to help you flourish and grow.

Let other people tend their own gardens

or wallow in their own dung heaps

as they will.

They are not for you.

*

Endings…..

A leaf falls from a tree

A wave flows out to the Ocean

And dust returns to dust

Let go

Fall

Flow

And you will find where you have come from

and return.

*

© Jane Tawel, 2025

Child’s Play Prayer

by Jane Tawel

Unsplash: Omer Haktan Bulut, Photographer

Child’s Play Prayer

By Jane Tawel

January 18, 2025

*

Hi.

I don’t understand You,

and that’s okay,

but I know You are my Parent.

I knew You when I

was in Your Womb, Mommy.

I knew You from the first day

You held my weak and wandering

eyes in Your loving gaze,

caressing me with Your thoughts.

*

I know how strong You are, Daddy,

because time and time again,

no matter how big I have grown,

You have lifted me up

on Your strong shoulders,

and held me in your strong hands.

*

Forgive me for growing up

to think I had to earn your love.

Forgive me for thinking You could

ever love me less if You also

loved my brothers and sisters

just as much as You love me.

Forgive me for thinking

I could ever put Your Love aside

like a memento from the Past,

store it in a little box,

shelving with other books

I might take down and read sometimes.

Your Love is not a once upon a time thing.

Your Love is not one thing at all.

Your Love is One — 

not You. not Me.

I am Yours, and You are Mine.

Mommy. Daddy. Creator. Love.

*

You, Parent-Creator,

are higher than my highest thoughts,

and lower than my deepest desires.

Release me from want — 

from needing

from needing or pretending

to be an adult around You — 

an adult full of doing and thinking,

not trusting and resting

at peace

at home

 in Your Love.

*

Help me flunk my test today,

so I will relearn how to go out and play.

Let me be again

Be… again… 

 Your dearly beloved

Child.

Amen.

© Jane Tawel, 2025

All is Love. All is Now.

by Jane Tawel

Max Bohme at max__the human

All is Love. All is Now

By Jane Tawel

November 7, 2024

*

I wanted to write about woe and grief

but decided to sit here and breathe.

I wanted to share how angry I am,

to know this is how the end begins,

rotting by choice from within.

But I looked to the words

and the life of The Man

to Whom, as a child I had taken a vow,

and I realized His message was all about Love

and all about loving The Now.

*

I feared the destruction, so long underway

of the feminine Sacred of All.

And the Past and the Future

merged bleakly in me — 

a trajectory strong since The Fall.

But I looked at my hands,

writing words on this page,

and I heard that Still Voice

Whispering, Age after Age:

“Just be present and Breathe.

Beingness.

Just Be Still.

Know The Moment — 

that’s all that you need.

Be Just You.

Be True You.

Just right Now — 

you’ll know how.

Find The Why.

To self, die.

You are Buddha.

You are Christ.

You’re The Way and The Life.

You’re the Voice.

You are Love.

Only you.

Only Be.

Only now.

Only choice is to Love.

Only Love.

Only Now.

Love is All.

Now is All.

All is Love.

All is Now.”

*

© Jane Tawel, 2024

A Prayer

by Jane Tawel

unsplash by Annie Spratt

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A Prayer

By Jane Tawel

September 27, 2024

*

I pray that mine will learn True Love.

I pray that mine will find The Way.

I pray for safety for each one,

and that sufficient is the day.

*

I pray for each that has been given

into my weak and feeble hands,

and then I pray for all the planet

in my own place and distant lands.

*

I pray at last for my own soul

that grace and love will set it free;

and that my heart and mind and will

may find its peace and home in Thee.

© Jane Tawel, 2024

Poems on Not Growing Old– But Aging

by Jane Tawel

*

Poems on Not Growing Old — But Aging

by Jane Tawel

(Family)

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Poems on Not Growing Old — but Aging

Shall we age, but not grow old?

Poem 1

By Jane Tawel

August 13, 2024

Shall we age, but not grow old?

Figures of speech,

becoming

more important than keeping our figures.

Old happens.

Aging, like good wine,

good cheese,

and good life,

old is not, but

aging is a choice.

© Jane Tawel, 2024

*

(us)

*

How We Go Through Life at Our Age

Poem 2

By Jane Tawel

August 12, 2024

*

We shall go through life as guests now.

Not always honored,

often merely put up with.

We are invited as a duty,

as the rather tattered

Shattered

Battered

Pieces of what used to be.

Do we still seem Whole to you?

I doubt we ever did.

But now the part we played

is a piece of the past

and it doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.

Oh, I understand –I was once young too,

Believe it or not.

No, it doesn’t do

for the young to look too closely

at our wrinkled hands and brows,

our sagging guts and breasts,

our lack of hair, and lack of –

of — 

of….

oh, what is that darn word I was searching for?

*

Oh, if only you could see beyond

what you think of as lack,

to the wealth we hide in back

of our front-facing old shells,

and see to the inside,

our true selves.

Minds slower but fuller,

bodies weaker, but battle-scarred,

hearts congested with so much love

that eventually they break.

Don’t let the doctors fool you

with the scientific diagnosis.

In the end,

our hearts break from carrying

So much love.

So much love.

Oh, So.

Much.

Love.

*

And we will agree to attend

to you and your events,

only because we keep hoping

against hope

that the treasure we could bestow,

the wisdom path we could show you

will at some time

some where

some how

be enough,

be enough — 

for those of you we so love.

We only want to help.

*

Yes!

We have always loved you

More than you could know,

More than all the leaves on all the trees,

More than all the stars in all the skies,

More than all the wishes on all the birthday candles,

More than all the babies born and all the graves filled,

More than Time itself,

Yes! Forever and a day.

Oh,

More than all of all of everything –

have we loved you — 

More than our own lives — 

And, we could hoping

that we here and now

will break through! — 

to you, my dearest dears.

Oh, we could, old as we are,

Raise you up — help you rise above

the sick darkness of the Times

and the viral condescension of youth

and the aching, longing of dreams still incubating

in your dear, dear hearts –

we hope to show, to share,

the strength, the care,

that only age can bring

and you will see at last,

we will shine!

We gift to you, if you can take it — 

The gift of age

Shining through and upon and in — 

Searing light

Light of Seers.

*

We give our attention

to the minutiae of you,

and to the essential essence of you as well.

Because there is nothing we love so well as you.

And what the hell,

We show up,

with hearts aching

and minds breaking

Because we,

who have lived so long,

are really still just children,

and we ache to be loved

not as we were,

not as one day we might be,

(or rather when we might not be),

But just as you do,

We long to be loved

just as we are.

© Jane Tawel, 2024

*

(Run Happy)

*

This is the Fun Part

Poem 3 — A Haiku

By Jane Tawel, August 13, 2024

*

This is so much fun.

Free to be you and me.

Getting old is great.

© Jane Tawel, 2024

Let Me Take Your Sorrow

https://unsplash.com/@livvie_bruce

Let Me Take Your Sorrow

By Jane Tawel

June 6, 2024

*

Let me take your sorrow,

if only for an hour

For I am old, not like you;

no longer armored with pangs of youth.

Let me take the tears you ache too much to shed.

And I will let grief flow through me

as your fast stream flows free,

flows free through my slow-moving sea.

*

Let me take your anger

until you need it again.

Let me take its energy

and keep it safe from misspent deeds.

And when you’ve rested and had some play,

I’ll give it back again.

Then you may lead the charge

to change the world once more.

Then you may slam the doors

on past and future visions of hate.

And in the house of my own self,

I’ll shut the gate on letting loose

the rage on life’s injustices.

Your anger’s safe with me

until you know its rightful cause,

until you know your strength.

*

Let me take your fears.

For I am old (though not an elder).

(Elders are wise and I am only willing.)

And though I’m still afraid to fall;

I’m more afraid to see you tumble down too far.

I’m not afraid to stay down there.

It’s often peaceful in the depths.

I’ve loaded up a life with care

and carefully, I throw old baggage out.

And piece by piece, what’s left of me,

must t’wards the end, walk fearlessly.

The greatest fear of all draws near.

And nearer, nearer does Death come.

I have nothing here worth fearing,

Except the nearing end of all the life!

Of All The Life and All The Love!

So let me hold each of your fears.

I’ll hold them close, while we sing lullabies.

I’ll wipe your fears away like baby’s tears,

cradling your fears within my ample heart.

*

Go! –live your life!- not fearless- No!

For fears protect and fears can guide,

but I will gently rock them,

so you may pick them up again,

when they’ve become at least more stilled.

And when your fears grow quieter,

then you will find their shadow strength.

Yes, you will find the strength in fear.

Yes, you will find dark’s might.

And even Life-Death’s greatest fear,

the fear of endless night,

will be the greatest strength of all,

the strength of how to live each moment, right.

*

Oh, let me take your sorrow,

your anger and your fears.

I’ll take them all for hours,

for days, and months, and years.

Oh, let me take your tears and grief,

and let me take your rages.

And like a tree with many leaves,

and like a book with endless pages,

you’ll shed the dead;

write more beginnings;

and I’ll keep listening,

keep being willing

to take your pain for just awhile

that your soul can recover.

And even when this life of mine,

has passed away and seems all over,

I’ll still be there beside you.

I trust somewhere,

somehow,

some days,

my spirit will reach out to yours.

For Love will always find a way.

And I will take your sorrow,

and I will take your anger,

and I will take your fears;

and fly them far away with me.

And fly them far away.

And you, oh, little, precious bird,

will live to fly –

will climb as high as you want to climb.

And you will know that suffering,

is yet a strength along The Way.

And you will rise, and fall and rise again,

to live this precious moment,

to love this precious day.

*

© Jane Tawel, 2024

The First Could Be The Last

Thomas Park, Unsplash

The First Could Be The Last

By Jane Tawel

May 19, 2024

*

The first cup of coffee

The last drops of tea,

The argument you always win

The look the mirror gives back to me

*

And birds in full cacophony

And trees that hold their secrets

And flowers that always, always die

And smiles, so rare, from strangers

*

But thoughts of you and them and us

But memories of such and thus

But dreams like intersection lights

But sleeping days and wakeful nights.

*

Ah, Life! Too short, too short to grasp.

Oh, love too small and love too vast.

Oh, seize the day, seize just this moment.

Awake and breathe. Drink deeply. Love.

This too shall pass.

This morning’s cup may be my last.

And what will be, no soul can see.

This moment is all I’ll ever know

A rare small glory is bestowed

in bird, and tree, and this warm, lovely cup of tea.

Hold all things lightly.

Keep holding fast.

Time passes quickly.

Next moment is the Past.

Yet what I am

that seeps the soul

is what I drink from,

what’s in my cup.

And looking up, to sky and rain

I can not help but hope

that birds and trees and these small hands

that hold your face; hold cups of tea

shall somehow live this moment well

to wake into a world of harmony;

to wake to live again eternally.

(c) Jane Tawel, 2024

And Let Me Catch Them Up

By Jane Tawel

Circle Dance

And Let Me Catch Them Up

By Jane Tawel

July 21, 2023

*

And when I go,

Yes, when I rise,

Oh, if I rise

when leaving here,

then let my arms be strong and long.

And let me catch them up.

*

For all those folks,

for those I know and do not know,

who think they’ve found their own way,

I will not trouble my mind about them.

I will not stress

the parameters of my own very small soul

with questions about their destiny.

Especially for those who feel there are no questions left.

I’ll let them trust in what they trust,

and agree that they’ve found their own way.

But for my loves,

my own dear loves,

who have seen too many battles fought

by those who think they own The Way;

for my true loves, my own true loves,

who are scarred into inactivity,

demeaned into a frigid heat of bored anger

by those who put a price on Love,

Love, meant to be free to all;

Oh, for my loves, my precious pearls — 

I do not ask You to change them, but — 

Oh, my God, Oh, my God,

Oh, let me catch them up!

*

Oh, for the ones I hold so dear,

the ones I love,

love more than my own life,

and because in this strange and troubled Time,

I know my loves,

I know with the surety of old wounds,

that they are not sure

what this fresh blood can mean.

We live in uncertain times.

I know my loves and their doubts,

doubting that they have actually found their way,

no matter what they say.

I know their fears that going forward is not an option,

and not just the way of open-ended appeals.

I know my loves, who walk alongside,

with trepidation if there even is a Way.

Oh, for them,

I shall not depart from the narrow path,

even as I stumble and fall.

Oh, for them,

I shall blindly blunder forth,

even though the light is often fading.

Oh, for them I shall not claim I know anything,

anything but that only Love exists

and that only Love will remain.

Oh, for and with them — 

I shall raise a fist of protest.

I shall raise an opened palm of supplication.

I shall raise a banner over them;

and my banner over them will be Love.

And I shall day and night, cry out — 

at the gates of the cities,

at the shorelines of the oceans,

at the edges of dark woods,

at the embassies of the nations,

and to all living creatures

and to the sun, and moon and stars,

I shall cry:

Oh, let me catch them up with me!

Let me grab onto a little finger,

or a strand of hair,

or grasp a big fat toe.

And let me hold their precious spirits close,

as I go on my Way (I hope to God)

and as The Way, (I pray) leads me on,

and further up and in,

I shall grab hold of them!”

*

And in that moment,

that final moment,

when all is changed forever and a day — 

Oh, may my heart be huge enough,

my soul be meek enough,

my self be gone enough,

my fears and doubts be purged enough,

to carry just enough,

and just enough faith and grace

for all of us.

Oh, may my love and Your Love,

and all my foolish floundering,

but still straight-ish path-ed love of You,

may all of me,

regardless of how small and weak,

regardless of how much wondering and wandering

that still lies within and ahead of me,

may I be enough,

enough to carry them again, as once I did,

(or might have tried to do, if asked),

enough to carry them, as You have always carried me.

And may they not feel my arms,

but feel only Truth and Peace.

*

No matter what is,

or what will be,

of all we do not know now,

may Divine Embrace of hope and love

be enough for me,

enough for all of them.

*

And let me catch them up.

Oh, let me catch them up,

to rise,

to rise,

to rise,

and forever be,

caught up in The Great Dance.

© Jane Tawel, 2023