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Columbia River Gorge

Exult Road is here to uplift and celebrate life, and you. 

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The Short Way Home - a poetry blog


Jill Cooper

Sometimes after thunderous dreams you love

the peace of violet music early in the shy,

bowing morning. 


You take that risk of hot tea, with its

peacock eyes looking to you

for answers. 


You walk out into a busy green forest and hear

its grid of swallowing, chewing, yawning, spawning, dripping,

growing, and being


beautiful. You love the green deep purpose though it is far from

the safety of a hot birch log at home consuming

orange peels, junk mail, and time. 


You, too mannerly, or brave for abandon, still look

away from the chaos as you chew love delicately into

every word you whisper. 


And you realize toward exactly what that green flame

reaches, a mirror to your own

portable ambitions. 


You give a passing nod to the signs of neon culture, 

inky affirmations, and blinking academic lullabies:

Lovely, lovely, lovely. 


But, being home, in your passive eminence, you become

again, as you were in the long dark forest, belonging.

Unwrapping your heart of its golden foil.   


You sway your arms now high like sea grass

in the air, eyes open. A swaggering but sacred song finds

its way up, up, up to your new mouth.


You dare right into this moment,

this prophetic belonging, because it is something

 - much like love. 


It is something that calls out for its own name playfully, slyly,

inversely proportionate to the impossibility of being called

anything at all. 


Jill Cooper ©2014