Tag Archives: Spring

Healing according to our Sages, the Grass

Posted on April 19, 2026 by jillbpearlman

My rebbe was quoting his rebbewho was quoting the Grass: Grass: The vitality pushing through usis stupendous. The green appearsfrom monochrome, from the shadeinto a shadeless shameless glow.Every blade is singing from the forceof its lit universe. Psychedelic!  No trade-offs, no … Continue reading →

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March: A Sooty Skin

Posted on March 22, 2026 by jillbpearlman

The pristine snow,abandoned, sinks— a sooty skin. Broken objectsrise up.  An arm,stairs, cardboardboxes shockedby fetid air My head pushes from the mud, the primordial churn, seething,thick with saltyactivity.  Shit or fish sauce? Call it March. 

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Towards a New Form

Posted on March 3, 2025 by jillbpearlman

How to dreamwhen the egg is already brokenwhiskuntil softand silkyin what colorstowards what peace

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Of Fiancés and Saplings

Posted on February 4, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Poor fools!  Shivering but starting its percolation, sap begins to rise in February. It has listened to the light, like others:young shoots and lovers in strappy gowns  with bare legs and backs who beat the dullwinter ache; no badger in a snug, … Continue reading →

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Confused Spring Prayer

Posted on May 21, 2023 by jillbpearlman

May I recognize my hilly landscapeand not expect to live in the plain.Know that I am the hills and ravines,the sun-drenched fields and deep shadows,  gulleys, mustard fields, yellows,veils of light that drape like silk slips,brooding camisoles, mist from cigarettes, … Continue reading →

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Exactly As Spring Is, Only More So

Posted on April 30, 2023 by jillbpearlman

The April dusk bursts with metaphors.  Night had sowed magical rain, the day comes forth in pea green, yellow green, everything green. Pavement of scattered chartreuse pollen with tire marks.  The daffodils mesmerize me: tiny geese with pointed head and tucked wings … Continue reading →

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Flux, March

Posted on March 26, 2023 by jillbpearlman

The pristine snow,abandoned, sinks — a sooty skin. Broken objectsrise up. An arm, stairs, cardboardboxes shockedby fetid air, my head  pushes from themud, the primordial churn, seething, thick with saltyactivity. Shit or fish sauce?  Callit March.

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A Season of Yellow

Posted on April 18, 2021 by jillbpearlman

Yellow, how do we read you?  Sickly or simple as happiness?  Simple as just living without ponderous thought.   Daffodils in their junior prom dresses.  Come rain, come light snow petals quiver but they don’t drop.   Forstyhia too.  On … Continue reading →

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That Old Keen Darkness

Posted on March 14, 2021 by jillbpearlman

Rooster consciousness,the rooster that sees light in darknessrooster announces the light while submerged in darknessfrom the deepest place as it’s starting to turn soon we’ll be in light, you can feel itit teases, it plays in spring dazzlethat exhilaration, that … Continue reading →

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So I’m…..

Posted on May 23, 2018 by jillbpearlman

I’ve always had sly fondness for “so.”  As a social starter, it used to go something like this: “So,” the best friend might say with twinkling eyes, “what happened last night?” The gossip wags, “So…guess I saw together in the … Continue reading →

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