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