Tonight, as the light snow falls, tell yourself
that you are loved even if you are not sure.
Our moon is out there, yes, & adored, but so
is her twin who is smiling in the cold, quiet,
nova pink light of another universe. No one
has seen her, except in the timeless dark
of dreams. She tells herself that someone loves
her—a child, maybe, who once fell from her
ridges & floated away & is out there with happy
memories of her & everything is connected, baby—
can’t you see it now? It’s so clear, like this snow
tonight & she’s out there humming a song you
once heard in a cathedral & that’s when you knew
that love is tethered to all times, old & new, & that music
is a cathedral of the faithful stars & let’s live now.
Jessica Jewell is the author of three collections of poetry, Dust Runner (Finishing Line Press), Sisi and the Girl from Town (Finishing Line Press) and Slap Leather (dancing girl press). She is the co-editor of the bilingual collection, I Hear the World Sing (Kent State University Press). She has published widely in both academic and literary journals. Jewell is the senior academic program director for the Wick Poetry Center at Kent State University, where she also earned her PhD and MFA.
