18-Peace in the Age of Monsters

Sleep has been merciful
these past three months,
arriving early from exhaustion
staying late in fellowship
with the dreams that wax nostalgic
for simpler nightmares and harmless ghosts.

But this morning, I’m awake at 3,
my familiar and I like old friends
sharing space beneath the spring moon,
waning in its sixth phase,
while one lone peeper keeps time
as sharp as the second hand on a clock.

We have not been together in this way —
the moon and morning and me —
since the monsters took over,
since their cacophony of destruction,
the sinister palpitation of days,
and all of us wondering what or who will be next.

This morning is a gift of quiet comfort,
the marsh frog a beacon which seems to say
Here! Here! Here!
over and over and over,
it reminds that even in the age of monsters,
once can find solace in the soft, dark edges,
calm in the promise of cycles and phases,
of spring and worlds ever spinning.

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Poem ©2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.