Everything is Karma
- Jul 17, 2017
- 1 min read
by Jean A. Kingsley
Whatever wants to be said
loses its voice,
curled and content—
a child napping
in a clean house.
Small birds that decorate
the backyard seem to chant:
remember everything, care
about everything.
We will see each other again, believe it or not. All life’s losses gather into the plum tree and why not, there must be a place, a sliver of sky, for us to gather—a reunion.
Maybe you, a grown man, will stroll over in disguise, ask for a light, knowing all along the perfection of a mother’s intention.
Jean A. Kingsley earned an MFA in creative writing from the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University and lives in Rochester, New York. She is the recipient of the 1995 Academy of American Poets Prize, a finalist for Discovery/The Nation and The Constance Saltonstall Foundation of the Arts Fellowship. Her poems have appeared in numerous national literary journals, and she won a poetry book award for Traceries from ABZ Press in 2014, selected by C.D. Wright. She is a recent reviewer for the Antioch Review and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
