As each season passes, I wait; First winter, then spring, then hot languid summer months praying autumn leaves fall so close to my feet I can easily reach down and touch, but this morning raindrops dissolve upon my soul like rare cashmere. The greatest part of any day is waking up to the flow of life’s drum beat, another haiku morning. Just once I would like to pour myself into a long stem ice cream sundae glass and sip the whole of dawn until it sets once again.
© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

jennifer brookins poem

I mourn the loss of winter still amongst us, snow cones still hanging on evergreens like Tibetan monks paying homage in silent meditation; snowflakes falling in love one more time, weightless without regard to where they fall. These cold silvery days make me long for the smell of hay; farmers tilling soil and little birds on the look-out for a better feathering neighborhood. It is a feeling I’ve come through something heavy and survived. Yet, even when spring arrives there is a part of me that can’t let go of chilly moonlit nights and vagrant stars streaking across the galaxy. I’m hopeless. © 2020 Jennifer Brookins

Hello World

Night beckons me to lie down in the high grass, arms outstretched over my head towards a lantern glowing on a farmer’s back porch; his dog barks at the least little thing. I hold close a throbbing mother earth who patiently awaits her progeny; my face turned upwards to the infinity of stars in the Milky Way twinkling as shards of mirrored glass.

© Jen Brookins