Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Becoming Clay


Becoming Clay
                          
Stacked upon the shelf,
my emotions, spent and raw.
Dark are they now,
and bland—
I cannot feel anymore.

Whispers of my soul
lay broken in a mess I cannot fix myself.
If I were to blow a final deep, aching breath
the shards would fly away like dust.

A single tear slides down my cheek,
like a match across my heart,
reminding me to feel—
reminding me of what I cannot lose.

It falls to the ground
reaching the dust of my brokenness.
And in the silence,
hands caked with the mud of humanity
reach for me,
His grip unafraid of the cold reality of what I am.

A low, loving murmur breaks the dead air,
a voice confident and sure,
"Now I have something to work with."



Copyright 2005 Jennifer Wagner

Monday, June 4, 2012

Corvus Observation



the black crow
endlessly wandering
finds home



Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Storms


Circumstance


White sails calmly sifting through a cerulean sea
A storm is coming, though powder blue skies are mum
Edging out the tranquil scene, comes a darkness

Passengers sleepy, lulled by the gentle breeze and even gentler wave
A storm is coming, its breath caught while attempting to speak
And the warming sun coaxes dreamers into respite

Unsteady hold or certainty begins the test
A storm is coming, preparers beware
Holding the light may be all you can do


Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner 
Shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry

Saturday, May 26, 2012

American Style Haiku



 
                dinner table
               hum and din
                —song of heroes



  Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Masterpiece


The Orchid

I walked alone
On a dark stretch of imperfection
The road was pointless
Stumbling marked my hesitation
                                              
I found courage, tried to run
But darkness cloaked the air
And twisted vines mocked my despair
                                                           
Dropping to my knees                                 
I wished for strength to fight the night
And clear the wood, to reach the light

The prayer I spoke
Was little more than just a breath
But there it was,
An answer on my quest

It stood alone, the orchid,
Fragile beauty wrapped in might
And seemed to glow from inner light

I gasped and smiled
As through the darkened mist it shone
Its unique purpose before unknown

The bloom was there, placed perfectly,
And because of this bloom
I remembered me

Its beauty, both intricate and fair,
Reminded me of what I usually fail to see
That we are magnificently created things

I continued on that day
To purpose which had seemed so far away
But the path was not as gray
The orchid lit my way

 Copyright 2006 Jennifer Wagner


Bullying is a newsworthy subject these days.  We’ve all seen it; some of us have even participated in it.  My son recently began to be the recipient of some ugly bullying behavior at school.  Undeniably, it is one of the most heart-breaking things to watch your kid go through.  To have that once-tiny, bundle-of-cute you would die for come home sobbing after you have sent him out into the world of his peers is well, hell.  Or something like it.  Differences aren’t often tolerated, and the messages that life can serve (you’re too fat, not smart, not athletic, not good at anything, or just plain not good enough) warp us until we believe them.  But they are not correct.  We are valuable.  We have purpose.  I had written this poem a few years ago when I was wrestling with my own thoughts on this issue, and it came to mind as I have been traversing some rough waters with my son.  Have you ever taken a good long look at an orchid?  It’s a masterpiece of artistry isn’t it?  But it doesn’t look like a daisy and it doesn’t smell like a rose and it doesn’t grow like a sunflower.  It is different.  It is its own unique work of art.  And so is he.  And so are you.

<a href="http://www.public-domain-image.com/flora-plants-public-domain-images-pictures/flowers-public-domain-images-pictures/orchid-flower-pictures/white-and-red-orchid.jpg.html" title="White and red orchid">White and red orchid</a> on <a href="http://www.public-domain-image.com" title="Public Domain Images">Public Domain Images</a>




Monday, May 21, 2012

Wistfully Whimsical


Childhood

My hand in the river
of ice cold water
charges me even as the sun
weaves its warm and dreamy spell.

Cool pebbles bounce in the stream
and I am taken with them,
down, down, down,
and back up again.

Two smiles play on my lips—
contentment and mischief;
and I am sure that, today,
I don’t need more than this.

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner