For me, the difference is/Healing

A Poem

The poet, Todd Kaneko is posting a poetry writing prompt a day for April, our National Poetry Month. I am going to try to catch up, keep up, or contribute where I can.

Here’s a link to some of Todd’s poetry:

Today’s prompt from Todd:

What might heal you right now? What does it mean to be healed to you? Look around you and notice what is different this morning compared to last night/week/month. Write a poem that starts there and end it with an image that heals. #amwriting ‬

And now, my response to this prompt, thank you Todd!

For me the difference is/Healing

A Poem

For me the difference is that extra layer of anxiety, that little bonus dollop of stress

that has to do with what is outside and might come in that has to do with the new ways we have to be on high alert

it has to do with being in my home, this space and place I love, this space and place I have

always spent most of my introverted nerd mom time, but having to feel that tension on top of tension

the usual drama of custody battles and my daughter being home then away home then away

are now amped up because home is home is home and we are told we are supposed to be here and I

can be in control of here of home of what goes in and goes out and who

wears a mask and when and how often we all wash our hands and then

when she has to go away all I can do is pray

for consistency for her safe healthy return

I walk around the house I breathe in and out

I think about my immune system, I think about everyone’s immune system

I think about lungs and lungs and vitamin C,

I think about garlic, licorice root ginger tea

for me the difference is that the anxiety knot

in my stomach is 24/7 now and not just maybe

a cool 18/24 like before

and what would heal me right now, what would heal me is to just

to know how to let go, how to trust

it seems in this there are two ways to be — real or delusional emails in my inbox are full of attempts to demand control pretend

as I over and over again assert it is a pandemic it is a new situation we cannot ignore it and yet, it goes on and on

and I look around and wish for little and big things a yard, a garden, a garden, a yard, daffodils

and I look around and wish for constant health, for health, for health that this tiny apartment can be a space of healing

that whatever is out to harm and hurt stays at bay

that we use what we have, what I have, to channel energy for energy

with the earnestness of a college girl

discovering tarot cards and Tori Amos

and crystals and prayer and incense and Marx

with the pure eagerness and open heart

of a seeker being found

by what she seeks; The white light of healing

protects and surrounds.

©Jenny Justice. All Rights Reserved.

Jenny Justice, Poet. Author of Love in the Time of Climate Change and Reveal. You can read more of her poetry at Justice Poetic. Sign up for her newsletter here.