Choir of Ancients

My hands speak to the sky.

The sky sees my hands as swallows,

lifting me in forget-me-not


I will press the birds of my hands

into holy Earth when she whispers

“Share your burdens.”

My throat will send my voice

to the Choir of Ancients, where we will sing,

big as Love.

Our Song — flower and falcon,

newt and fruit and sky and I,

are blessing all the world

right this very instant, and you,

just sitting there, you!

are a vital part of this


 J. Pratt-Walter, © 8/5/201



For the introvert, the harvest

of spoken syllables is


Go on, ask a friend

for her spare

words.  Ask your husband;

he doesn’t know how to be


Ask yourself “Is this garden really

worth it?”

I assure you, it is.  Dig down.

Friends and husbands are fine,

but your garden of thoughts can feed

the hungering world.


J. Pratt-Walter, © 8/5/2017



The Bird of Plenty

has flown from this house.

Nowhere can you hear

her orange song like syrup

in your ears.

Tomorrow, say the right prayers

and call her back, prayers being

selfless deeds you give

the world

from the ache in

your hinterland heart.

J. Pratt-Walter (c) 2017

Creatures of the Earth

Creatures of the Earth,

with breath and heart and mind,

teach us to see

beyond just humankind:

We are all One.

Jennifer Pratt-Walter

© 8/2017

The Embracing Of Shadows

Where water lays down her life

to the pulling air,

where stone succumbs to

the laughing river,

where the oxygen yields to

the latent life of wood afire,

where the micobes’ anthems

unrivet my still body:


This is where I will give over

my burden of Being –

Not in light, but in the embracing

of shadows.

May this be the

Going-Back Bridge to

the mystery

of the Mystery.


J. Pratt-Walter (c) 2017

Beside you

Even at the beginning

of beginning,

as you step onto that wide

strand, the ending

walks beside you.