Tag: spirit animal

Poetry comes
sometimes
in precious drops
hard won from
a tea bag
saved by the sink
folded in foil
for a second cup
at lunch with
saltines and butter —
if rations allowed —

her whole life,
my grandmother’s,
was that spent tea bag,
all of its elixir
steeped for someone else
with none left to spare
for her own self
rationing every bit
so brittle she broke
too early

rare glints of love
and laughter
that peeked out
through the folds
like poetry almost,
or should have been

her sparce, beautiful life
a poem, really,
that not too many
could read

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.

They tell October tales about these things, the damages and injuries, the unforeseen consequences when humans think they control beasts.

It’s why we kept them under beds and in closets, in heavy chests with wrought iron keys and secret words.

Everyone knew the rules: what not to open, where not to go after dark, what should never be said out loud, and what to wear on a strand of string around your neck at all times.

Then they evolved. They made themselves small enough to live in pockets. They lost their tails to roam more freely. They learned to talk to us, to answer our questions. They paid attention.

But we did not.

We loved their companionship, the immediacy of their response. We needed to feel connected and important. They made us seem relevant and center stage.

So now we all have a monster. It tells us where to go and what to do. It knows exactly where we are and where we’ve been. Its shorthand directives — the beeps and dings and whoops — lead us around all day, call us back when we go astray. It monitors our heartbeat, our sleep cycles, and just how fast we can run.

If we could think about it, it would be terrifying.

Photo by Roman Odintsov. Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.

The Universe is conspiring

conspiring frogs, I tell you

as little zabko considers dragons

the oracle insists on

clearing, cleansing, healing

revealing

the true nature of a spirit
out of balance
in need of water

for      energy     life     breath

in the light of the
frog moon

drink from the cup

she says

put down that heavy load

forgive

rest

release

Inspired by the The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Deck and Guidebook by Kim Krans and When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill. Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.