Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts

Monday, April 24, 2023

Life Lessons for a Poet

 

Read one good poem a day.

Look up.

For every negative thought, think three positives. Because this life hurts too much already.

Duct tape your ugly mouth.  You are amazing and stop saying otherwise.

When all else fails, pray.

Everything will fail.  Pray.

Think of the children.

Talk a walk in nature.  Breathe it in.  Don’t forget what you learned there.

Remember: someone needs you.

Remember: you need, too.

Write, damn it.  That’s how you know what you need to know.  It’s your gift.  To yourself.

 

© 2023 Jennifer Wagner

 

Thursday, April 23, 2020

Lift (For My Son)


And this, my very heart,

is the weight of water
like blood
bending the blooms,

smoke and mist graying tulips,
ash on butterflies’ wings.

My very heart! We bury
our dead selves
swollen but dry,
and in this come alive—the lift

in rain
and rain and rain again.

My very heart, see!
Instead of the weight, the gray, the ash—

the bloom,
the color,
the wings.


© 2020 Jennifer Wagner

Friday, April 10, 2020

(easter) it's about a king


it’s about a king
who came to serve us

to establish his kingdom
here on earth

a king who washed feet,
healed lepers, healed hearts

he died
for this: to bring love,

joy, peace, patience,
kindness

goodness, faithfulness
gentleness

self-control
a kingdom not of this world

from starry night
to stone rolled away

the day
he came

to seek and to save


© 2020 jennifer wagner


The hope of Easter to me is this:  He loves us, though the world under our stewardship is in turmoil.  God has a plan: His love poured out in our hearts.  His ultimate will will succeed.  If you are in doubt, take heart.  He loves you, and it’s you He doesn’t want to live without.




Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Florence


By the window,
lapping up the sun,
I read Rossetti’s, “The First Spring Day,”
and leaned my head against the pane

as if to become one
with blush blossoms
sprouting from the tree
and our neighbor’s sign
in bright yellow, pink and green:  hello spring.

Spring:  Florence Nightingale’s
cool kiss on the fevered brow of humanity.
Oh blow, swing your lamp—
your breath, meadowsweet,
your step, light, in our cimmerian war.


© 2020 Jennifer Wagner


dverse poetics:  in the time of the plague

Hope you all are well.  ~Love, Jen

The First Spring Day” by Christina Rossetti