Jungle of Joy She talks incessantly of the jungle of joy that awaits us, if only we’d leave this closet, this room, this house with its four walls, and just step outside, where the wind sings and the birds dance and the trees celebrate the sunshine. “Let’s play!” she hums. The dandelions are fading, calling us to spread their spores with our breath. The clover is begging us to sit in the grass, and chain together a crown to bless our precious heads. There are daisies in the garden with our names, ready to tell our fortunes of love. “Let’s play!” she croons. The sidewalk has opened like velvety red carpet, dreaming of our footsteps skipping along its surface. The basketball court has opened her stage for our coordinated circles, our synchronous swirls as we roller skate our favorite dance. Even June is calling us over to jump rope, hop to the top, move like a mop, don’t stop! She can see herself spreading like a bird’s wings, her ruffles spinning around my legs, floating up toward the sky we jump and gyrate, and drifting back down like a bellyflop in the pool. The cotton dress – the one with a parade of colors – who has hung quietly on the rack all winter, dreaming of reclining against my body, she now invites me, filled with hope, that we’ll go out and play.
I wrote this poem in response to a prompt in my workbook, How to Write Poetry: A Guided Journal with Prompts by Christopher Salerno and Kelsea Habecker, from the chapter on personification that suggested writing about an item of clothing in your closet. I really had fun with this one!
Click HERE for an audio recording of the poem.
This poem is part of an online collection I call All the Shapes of Joy.