by Jeanelle Fu

Part the willow’s leaves
and come find her,
bathed in the wild storm
Dandelions don’t dance, they melt
Into the wind
She carves her soul on the
driftwood- naked before the sun to dry
Just another piece of earth

Until he read every word,
Holding her in an endless rain
Breathless
It is I, don’t be afraid

Jeanelle Fu is a Taiwanese-American poet, artist and creative storyteller. During her free time, she enjoys dance choreography, hiking, and making stuff with friends. She has collaborated with LA-based media company Mighty, producing videos that have been shared by The National Review, The Gospel Coalition, and translated into multiple languages. She is currently working on publishing her first chapbook of poetry, inspired by themes of grief and how it intersects with the God who wept. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband. Read more at www.fujeanelle.wixsite.com/home