Archive for February, 2010


A graceful sprite, so full of life
she danced her way into my heart
I never understood till now
that grief was tearing her apart.
Her father was an angry man
Her mother cried into the night.
And Elenor went wandering
inside her mind -and out of sight.
It took a while to realize
that little Elenor had gone
she took no purse and left no clue
as to the road she traveled on.
She made new friends quite easily
but they would never know,
that as the past came closing in
Elenor would have to go.
She came to me, as children do,
with laughter and expectancy
wondering what part I’d play
in her created fantasy.
I loved her laughter and her smile,
and would have kept her as my own
but just as quickly as she came
she slipped away, alone.
She left a note with scribbled hand
“I have to go”- was all it said.
Today the front page of the news
reports a missing girl found dead.
Her father has been taken in,
a suspect for the crime.
Her mother’s in the hospital.
They say she’s lost her mind.
If only I had questioned more,
this little girl who stole my heart.
I never understood till now
what grief was tearing her apart.

by J. Clark  (c) 2003


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Beyond Today

I want to see beyond today
To cast the former things away
To live this moment without fear
To speak with grace, and with grace, hear.

To hold my life with open hands
To walk with joy in Your commands
I want to see beyond today
So I may know Your perfect way.

You want to trust me with Your will
Yet I am hesitating still
Afraid to find I cannot run
and finish what I have begun.

Afraid to let them see how weak
I am inside. So dare I speak?
I want to see as You see me
Through grace, and in Your grace, be free.

And when I think I know what’s true
And focus on what I can do,
Please bring me back again to see
It’s not myself, but You in me.

You have a plan beyond today
And so I wait, and hope and pray,
Releasing my ambition to
The better path of loving You.

by Jane Clark
Feb. 9, 2010

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The family sits in silence

waiting for a breath.

a spark,


Life goes on.

Perhaps not.

perhaps, only existance.

Solitary again.

Should I presume they would

agree with me,

support me,

love me?


It isn’t about me

after all.

I hear a sigh –

It is my own.

The silence is broken.

J. Clark  2008

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Vicarious Life

You speak

and I fall into memory, not my own.

The corners fade

Yet you are distinct

and more alive to me than myself.

Adjectives, nouns and verbs

become sight

and heart

and pace

straining toward phantoms.

Not standing,

not running,

my feet fly and you cross the line.

Thundering pulse of sweat and salt,

the race is won –

although you tore through ribbon long ago.

by J. Clark     Feb. 14, 2010

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Symphonic Captive

Notes spill out

like a confession

I am arrested.

Chords tied tightly

in progression

I come undone

Hypnotist with waving wand

bring me back again

to Rhyme and meter

rhythm and matter

Sound and resound

I surrender.

J. Clark   (c)  2/13/10

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The Solitary Soldier

There was a time his armor waited ready by the door.

His heart burst at the shout of comrades gathered for the war.

The darkling night would cower at the echo of their roar,

But the solitary soldier fights no more.

Too many broken shields now lie in trenches near his home,

And  countless lost and missing loves are searching for their own.

The carving is still fresh upon the monumental stone

And the solitary soldier stands alone.

The cry of battle far away sounds harsh against the night.

The tattered flag is lowered. He recoils at the sight.

No matter how he wishes he can never make it right.

So the solitary soldier ends his fight.

by J. Clark   2/12/10

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The one thing I really want before I die, is to know my life has been of great value. How much time have I wasted? Too much, I think. What have I done that will last? Time to reflect on the last, almost 50, years.

I’ve raised four children and am raising a grandchild.

I’ve taught Sunday School classes for more than 25 years.

Tried to be a good friend, an encouraging wife to my husband, and a faithful follower of Jesus Christ – not compromising things I believe are important to Him.

I have written a few children’s books,

taught a few workshops,

I tutor 8th graders once a week,

and post on Facebook regularly!  (It’s my bully pulpit for conservative Constitutionalism and Bibilical worldview.)

I’ve had little success arguing for theological points of view, and have found that to be a waste of time – unless the person I’m speaking to is really searching. It’s the same politically. People don’t want to be challenged in their beliefs, they want to be supported. The greatest tool, I’ve learned, in persuasion, is the question.

I’ve learned that I really don’t know so much.

That I’m not very skilled or talented compared to others.

That I have little strength to persevere, and constantly need encouragement or motivation to continue – especially in the dark months of winter.

I’ve learned the value of good friendships.

I have learned to risk honesty, and entrust myself to God for help.

I’ve learned to finish things I start, and not to start things I can’t finish… usually.

I’ve learned about the importance of listening before speaking.

Does all this make my life significant? Will God say, “Well done”, when I see Him?

I have not learned to push  myself in discipline with something I really *hate* to do.

I’ve NOT learned to accept getting old – I strive against it.  It isn’t the years – but the effects of them I don’t like.

What I don’t know, is –

should I let go and let myself be the “old lady” (such an awful term!!!) or should I continue to strive against it?

Knowing that in our society an old lady is not respected. Not “heard”. Marginalized.  At a time when my circle could be growing ever larger, will it shrink? Will I withdraw and be ignored as insignificant? There must be a silver lining here somewhere.

Today, I am thinking about myself. Yes I am.  Feeling sorry for myself, I guess. It is such an effort to row against the currents of time. Is this how I should be spending my efforts? I keep vacillating between two courses. Shall I water the flowers tombed in ice upon the hill?

What course to take now. And not turn back again. I don’t want to waste any more time with false starts. I don’t know how many days there are to leave a legacy or make a difference. Shall I set my sights higher? Shall I be content?

How shall I know…

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She’s still watering the flowers
although they’re bent and brown,
in hope, life giving showers
will restore their withered gown.
Each morning at the window
she’s looking to the sun
expecting reaching limbs to bear
the fruit of labors won.
Then for a little while
signs of life seem to appear
but the season’s growing colder
and the creeping sleep draws near.
As frost sparkles from each stem
you will find her tending still,
pouring water on the flowers
tombed in ice upon the hill. 
(c) 2004  J. Clark
Photo Credit to Jessica Dean 

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