In and Out

 

 

Out here I am weightless, or grounded, or both.  Smooth, cool grass curling up around my heels, filtered between my toes, flittering softly.  Darkness above me and here below.  I brush my own shoulders lightly for just a touch of warmth—an inside connection to the “outside” me which I think must surely appear as if crumbling in panic, in crisis, in chaos.  But I’m not and I don’t.  “Outsiders” even say I look like I am holding it all together.  But it’s not me who is doing the holding.  I am held.  Again, and again, and again, and still.  Silence is breathing about me in words the “outside” me hears inwardly.  Flowing, like prayers.  My eyes adjust to a myriad of twinkling lights.  Be still.  And know.

 

a river of starlight

the stillness of knowing

He hears me, too

 

“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

  

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Haibun Monday: Silence

 

image created by me using copilot

Crisscross

 

Our kitchen became hers when

she moved in with us

after Grandpa died.

 

She taught me classic

peanut butter cookies—

how to crisscross the tops with sugared fork.

 

I watched knee-side as she made

cream pies, one after the other,

laying a blanket of raw pie crust in a tin,

 

poked with fork, baked, let cool,

and scooped full with mounds of creamy goodness

in rich dollops filling up the shell.

 

She shaved chocolate,

sprinkled toasted coconut,

layered thick meringue.

 

I wish I could look

into that kitchen window,

peering in from the backyard,

 

and see her strong capable hands,

her quick movements,

my eyes wide and hopeful,

 

youthful innocence and joy

sticking to my fingers

like sugar and cream.

 

Oh, for a quick taste

of memory—

like the window to a long-forgotten dream.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

Poetic Bloomings: Windows

 

image above created by me using copilot

 

The Fierceness of Joy

 

Photo © Jennifer Wagner

 

When escapes a tiny gasp

astonished by spring’s fresh-lit match

bursting against the gray—

 

you’ve begun to see

the world again

through the lens of joy—

 

and come thorn, come rain,

winter’s worst cannot stop

its blossom way.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

What’s Going On?  When Nature Takes Your Breath Away

dVerse OLN