Poetry

Jenna Weston Poetry Breathing Together
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Order Jenna Weston’s new book of poems, Breathing Together. Order Now

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Breathing Together speaks of connections:
with each other, with plants, with animals,
and even with inanimate objects that become
animated when given the poet’s — and the
reader’s — full presence.

These poems offer a portal to heightened
perception through exploring deepened meanings
of the everyday world.


weston_haiku_poems

 

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Order Jenna Weston’s book of North American Haiku poems, Written on the Leaves.
Order Now

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Most of my poetry and all of my haiku explore the connection between nature and human nature. Although I find amazing beauty and inspiration in the natural world, I am deeply concerned about the alarming rate at which so much is being destroyed. I want my poetry to draw readers closer to nature, while also showing how vulnerable and in need of protection our planet has become.

Cicada

I feel the split starting
Before it happens.
The shell cracks,
Falls away in one piece-
And with it, the memory
Of all those years spent underground,
Waiting, preparing for this day.

When I finally crawl out
From the dark husk of my past,
I leave behind that empty thing
That looks like me,
But isn’t me.

Ascending to a higher level,
I find I have a voice,
That I can join it with others,
And together
We might be loud enough
To wake up
All those that still sleep.

Interior in Green


Inside this house

Plants find their way

Into my poems,

Vining sideways

Along the page,

Wrapping their tendrils

Around my pen.


Beside the silent radio

The lemongrass plant,

From a circle of bound dirt,

Explodes in green fireworks.


Asparagus ferns dangle

Languid fronds over the sides

Of hanging bowls,

Stirred by a whirling ceiling fan.


With multiplied spines

Reflected in stainless steel,

A cactus bristles

At sharing space with pots and pans.


Atop a bookshelf

The prayer plant

Folds its leaves for the night,

A closing of oval pages.


I dip my fingers into soil

To check for moisture,

And feel the shock of contained growth.

These plants remind me I am alive

In rooms of so many inanimate objects,

Where daily, within these walls,

We breathe in

Each others’ exhalations.