Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Threads



I’m not fond
of needles,

or needling
in general,

especially when
I’ve lain
on a bed of them.

So I will stick

to the kind
like pine, and

like space, ever
reaching skyward—

to thread
my life

with the hope
that never fails

to call my name.


© 2016 Jennifer Wagner


Space Needle Image © 2016 Jennifer Wagner


Sunday, June 12, 2016

Discernment



I once trusted
every standing bridge
I came to,

that it would hold,
carry me over
to the other side.

Now, I doubt.

At each crossing,
a hesitation.

Experience has taught me
wolves dwell among the sheep,
chaff remains midst the wheat.

Rotten planks.  Weak foundations.  Slippery stepping stones.

My eyes have fooled me
more than once
on this account.

But fear won’t have a stranglehold
around the neck of my indecision.

I’ll keep walking
even when I have to close my eyes
to see.


© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Monday, June 6, 2016

Monotony



I’ll admit it.  It doesn’t feel much like love when I’m doing it.  Laying out bread, layering meat, cheese, lettuce.  Slicing apples.  Refilling water bottles.  Granola bars.  Crackers.  Daily packing lunches to be eaten by hungry kids the next day just feels like a task.  And one I often feel like not doing.  But that’s love, isn’t it?  And my kids never wonder if and when they will get their next meal.  Never.  With tears, I am grateful for this privilege I dismiss as monotonous duty.

the happiest chirp
at the freshly filled feeder
humbled, I’m quickened


© 2016 Jennifer Wagner




Note:  I believe my haiku to be classified as more of a senryu since it includes the human element with nature/season.  Thanks for reading!