The land bridge isn't there anymore.
My ancient migration ended.
And now I don't know what to do with myself.
My heart longs to go north
And across
And down
To the forest of northeast china,
And out to the place where the timbers cross,
And the open Manchurian plane.
There are foods there that feed my soul
That don't grow in this country,
And maybe my body is starved for them as well.
And so, should I pray for calamity,
For famine or drought or age of ice
To come again,
And open the route
For me?

-jenn

This is one of those days
When the empty wind blows
And slams the door
And reminds me of the thousand days
That I don't have you.
But then I turn
And see the ocean,
And the ocean smiles and waves
And says,
"But you do have me."
And I am happy again.

-jenn

You're a sweet lover,
A delicious one,
Acres of unending sugar cane,
Miles of rolling sorghum.
You're the first ear
Of green corn silked,
The best creamy taste
Of cows fresh milk,
The honey
Still in the comb.
You're big
And brilliant,
And my eyes can't even see
All there is of you.
My arms and hands expand
And try to hold you while you dance,
And try to take all that is you
Into me.

-jenn

Juniper berries tingle and clean.
Come sit back in the tub with me
And watch them float and gather
On top of the water and all in between.
They stop and stay in constellations
That copy, at first, then go beyond
The galaxies that we can imagine,
For they've come from the Ancient Juniper fronds, and know
Just how to make the claws of the feet of this tub hold on.
And so, hold on to me,
As we pass through the water
And the Juniper Constellations
Together.

-jenn

Love transcends Time and Place and Circumstance.
Love unlocks the hidden meanings of riddles
And unfolds the map another section
To disclose a new frontier beyond the horizon,
A reason to breathe again.

Love is always there,
'The Supreme Poet, The First Cause,
More subtle than the tiniest particle,'*
Big, like the biggest sky,
With stars that you can see
All the way down to the horizon.

And if any two points can find
That they are, in fact, co-linear,
And believe me, they are,
Then, everything is simpatico,
And Love is recognized.

(* from The Bhagavad Gita)

-jenn

I wanted to bring you wild flowers
From the coast of transient spring,
Where the bluebonnets and the Indian paintbrush sway.
And a snowflake that I caught midwinter
Puzzled my eager eye.
I wanted you to have a look at it.

And the golden ambrosia apples crisp,
So sweet and so delicious--
I held one like a bowling ball
And tossed the core
All the way to Baltimore
For you.

But would time stop
Or turn its back,
For but one season still?
And I would meet you
At the Summer Mill.
And we would turn out
Flour for cakes
To eat all year
From the grains of
Sparkling sand and waters blue
And "I Love You's,"
Where Love began,
And still is new.

-jenn

I'm just a pat of butter
Stuck on Baldy's beard,
Melting slowly
Right into his whiskers,
And I can see people
Giving him hints
That he ought to take his napkin
And wipe me off.
Their plaintiff eyes are serious
Albeit, polite.
They're wiping their own clean shaven chins
Determinedly.

But Baldy ain't taking no suggestions today.
Tho maybe, in some parallel universe,
In some other time anomaly,
He may have dutifully fixed "the problem."
In this time, Now,
This particular "Today,"
He prefers butter in his beard,
As gentlemen
Prefer blondes,
And his "little problem" is here to stay,
Melting slowly into his whiskers,
Gently dripping onto his face,
'Cause, he likes it that way.

-jenn