My Poems Speak to the Living and the Dead
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
My poems speak
To the living
And the dead.
Spirits lingering nearby
Hear my words
And start dancing;
Ghosts feel them blow thru
Like calming winds
Or billowing storms
Depending on how tethered
To place they are.
Spirits send out resonances
To meet these resonances
Even if they’re read in your head—
After all, skulls and skin
Are no barrier to spirits
Longing to be influenced and
To influence. My poems
Speak to streams of time,
Carrying ships bearing autumn trees,
My poems speak to the clouds
Who carry them across the sea,
My poems speak to roots and wings
And burrow like cicada nymphs
Only to rise up fully mature-winged-voice-throwers,
My poems speak to the rivers,
Polishing rocks and stones, and smoothing over
Fallen trees, my poems
Caress the legs of frogs and kiss the lips of deer,
My poems speak to the souls
Of infants and elders, my poems
Speak to the living and the dead.
Take
A moment,
Hold it loosely, much like
A hummingbird holds its hovering
Over the trumpet flower,
And speak these words,
Speak your words,
And set your whole being
And everything around you
Thrumming, like
A chord
Of joy.