Vox Populi
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Elizabeth Jacobson: Love, I Am
All day this thought
had me reeling—
did not vanish
and then return—
was persistent
like a ceiling
leak pinging into tin.
Opaque rain all day—
what am I
to myself:
two feet on
some land
when upright;
a backbone with branches
when supine? Thoughts
become
weary—
and merely announce
linearity. Love,
I am
so wary of this
happiness, when
it floods in— when
it tumbles to a halt
—a rough cut ruby
at the center of a silver bowl.
Rain is the loneliest color
then lake, then shade.
From “There are as Many Songs in the World as Branches of Coral” by Elizabeth Jacobson. (c) 2025 by Parlor Press. Used by permission.
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Just beautiful 💙
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Yes, it is! A copy will soon be winging its way to you. Thank you so much, and Michael!
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”What am I to myself”—an essential question! This is one of those poems that makes me realize how little I’ve gathered and perceived, while simultaneously encouraging me to celebrate the fact of being. Thank you!
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Thanks, Bob. Is your new book out yet?
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Thoughts the way they happen. Oh the music.
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Yes, the music!!!!
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“Rain is the loneliest color / then lake, then shade.” In those lines lives a life, music, melancholy, relief. What a gorgeous poem.
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Much to ponder in this marvelous poem. And I betcha every reader will think of something way different to say. Rain is the loneliest color, other than perhaps lake or some other shade. I like how the poem busts categories, and uses the linearity of short lines, to disparage linearity. Paradoxical pondering
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Lovely meditation on this paradoxical poem. Thanks, Jim.
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Poetry forever grants us leaps and blurs. Naomi Shihab Nye
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Yes, I agree; we all have our differing perceptions. It seems to me, “what am I to myself” is the key line; our bodies experience pain, pleasure, stimulation but that can only be interpreted by our mind which is…..ok….a part of the body or….ok; going to have some lunch and enjoy the sunshine.
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