A Poem by Jenna Griffin
These Days
I am trying, these days, to look at the world as a poet might,
because the poets know how to use words
to move beyond words.
We could all learn to do this:
to use a thing to move beyond the thing.
I am trying, these days, to see the world as a poet might,
trying to open my palms and,
no matter what lands in them,
to open my eyes and see a poem.
I am trying, these days, to receive the world as a poet might,
because the poem isn’t something to understand
but something to experience,
like God handing you your life.
All you have to do is slip it over your head
like a dress too big for your body
and learn to move in it.
Maybe then, when I see the world with weakened eyes,
the empty spaces will mean something,
and something else,
and something beyond.
Nothing means just one thing.
Maybe then, my life will resemble the kitten in my window
who won’t stop reaching for what isn’t hers,
soft body stretching against the world
and all that she will never touch.
This I will take, she says.
I’ll take it all.
Jenna Griffin is a writer and community development worker based in the Jiu Valley, Romania. When she is not writing or working with the youth at Fara Limite, she enjoys making art, foraging in the mountains, studying foreign languages, and rock climbing.