Author Archives: amyjasek

New Project

For National Poetry Month, I labored fiercely over a self-imposed project of writing “letters” to poets using a specific form that I concocted by piecing together a couple of different odes. It was nothing short of a brain buster! I’ll admit I’m glad I finished it, that it’s over, and I can move on toContinue reading “New Project”

Prophecy

ForetoldI told you beforeyou remember that timewe did that thingwell, this is like that No, this is not like that at all Forewarnedyou were told beforeso where are your arms?bare in the winter wind,unguardeddefenses down for the count The news is disarming anyway Remember cracking openthe fortune cookieand reading something tellingon the slip inside:“the bestContinue reading “Prophecy”

Prophet

Prophetic naturesending signals of a changeit’s our choice to seefree will lets us stay asleepfree will lets us take notice At the door: a knockan announcement of a changewaiting for our earsif we choose, we can listenif we choose, we can open Further to yesterday’s post, here I am sharing the Advent poems I’ve putContinue reading “Prophet”

John

The wisest ones are always called crazyratty and preoccupiedpockets full of proclamationsmuttering their way through the crowdwith bits of wilderness stuck behind their ears Possibly he could carry onin that fashion foreverif people didn’t start to listen,gathering with hesitationthat turns to alarmand then convictionaround his street-corner sessions,each day a new ramblingmaking more senseanswering the questionstheyContinue reading “John”

The Waiting

On the cusp of Adventwith the fires litbut the bells still stowed awayin closets, cabinets, boxes, and shelvesall decoration tremblinglike tinsel in a soft breezewaiting for the starting whistle the blessed season stirs in its slumbersubtle movements behind the eyelidsshow signs of awakening the dawn holds its breath in anticipationheralding that midnight long agowhen theContinue reading “The Waiting”

Remembrance

Nostalgia is a warm soft beddowny, drowsy, a burrowwell insulated by last year’s leaf-fallthe earth turned and fragrantwelcoming a snug hollowwhere memory can dwell what slept all year awakens nowbrought forth by the changing light,the yawning season stretches and emergesbedhead crazy wild withprolonged hibernation,stuck with twigs and leaves like an old nest the kitchen fillsContinue reading “Remembrance”