In the quietness of early day, I discovered a secret gift for collectors of small things. From habit, my better self got up and walked over to the window to observe a family of young morning glories clustered together in prayer; their heads bowed low. I thanked them for their generous heart and spent the rest of the morning lost in wonder.

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins


If meadows shamelessly blooms out of season and lavender anxiously press their seed against a blanket of wintry snow, why be embarrassed if no one hears the music that makes you dance.

Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Brookins

jennifer brookins

this odd poetry of my soul

more madness of heart than verse.

perhaps my thoughts of you should be reigned in

meet me in the boathouse for tea, lemony with ginger

afterwards I will lay my head on the soft down of your belly

dragonfly flutters on winters lake

buddha bird sits high in trees watching the moon shed tears

om shanti om

Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Brookins    


poetry by jennifer brookins

Heartache, you rapacious, marauding haunter nipping at the heels; you make every attempt to jackboot my day. Have you forgotten we no longer share the same bed – so anxious am I to meet the one who laughs within my soul. What happened to my old friend Raggedy Ann…my  diary filled with poetry written walking along river’s edge when life seemed too hopeless to go on. But on this wondrous autumn day her leaves – the color of ripe pimento, fall breathlessly in every corner of my garden; yesterday’s heartaches replaced with sonnets…I am humbled by their presence.

© 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

when winter leaves bundle by the roadside
bed perfumed with elderberry wine
my heart a bottomless well of loneliness when I think of you
another night swathed in moon glow for everyone but me
Oh Weaver
why visit only in dreams
meet me under the street light
where I sleep each night on a bench
my coat turned inside out
a pillow
in the hope someone will understand my barefoot journey
walking this pass of love every dusk-filled night of my soul
if only you were the reflection I face each morning
surely you would pierce my heart
lion sits all night gazing at the moon
while honeyed she-lion
loves him back