Posted on June 12, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
what do you get
when you stand up
for yourself?
results,
reactions
or regrets?
what do you get
when you sit up
and speak your mind?
relief,
resolution
or regrets?
what do you get
when you shout out
and say your truth?
reassurance,
retreat
or regrets?
me?
I get a little of this
and sometimes
a whole lot of nothing
but
never
many
regrets
when I stand up
sit up
or
shout out
I get it-do you?
stand,
sit,
shout
or
shut up
and stay
the same
as
you’ve always been
Posted on May 5, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
On first glance
It’s just ordinary.
Nothing spectacular
Or splendid.
Just petal, tendril and stem
One just like the other.
On first glance
He’s just ordinary.
Nothing unusual
Or magnificent.
Just flesh, bone and skin
One just like the other.
On second glance
It’s a bit different.
Something unusual
Or just eye-catching enough
To stop and look
Closer.
On second glance
He’s a little curious.
Someone uncommon
Or just atypical enough
To stop and look
Closer.
Stop
Look
Smell
Pause
And linger,
You find something ethereal
Breathtaking
Dazzling
Someone miraculous
Distinct
And courageous.
And on your next glance
You hesitate
Gazing
Penetrating
Someone or something
So much more alive
And
Exquisite
Than you ever imagined
Possible.
Posted on April 25, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
I rolled over and padded downstairs
Anticipating rich, creamy nectar
In my chosen avocado green mug.
“Good morning,” he called
His familiar smile crinkly from sleep.
“Not really,” I grunted, and
Retreated into myself.Seeking solace, I slithered into the garden.
“Good morning,” she mouthed
Her icy blue petals delicate and tall.
“Not really,” I sighed, and
Stepped further.
“Smile,” she breathed
Her cheerful words bright and welcoming.
“Not yet,” I hissed, and
Kept going.
“Come closer,” she mouthed
Her vivid scent intoxicating and deep.
I paused
Closed my eyes
Breathed deeply
Relented
And murmured,
“Good morning.”
Posted on January 20, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
This is how my son sees himself:
Invincible.
Capable.
Brave.
He can hang from trees, climb rocks, take down an intruder
and
fly down a ski course.
He can run fast and think hard.
This is how I see my son:
Gentle.
Intelligent.
Fearless.
He can snuggle his dog, play the piano, help a stranger
and
make lemon pasta.
He can think fast and run hard.
He is still a little boy, yet almost a little man.
Change is hard.
Fascinating.
Frustrating.
Beautiful.
