Author Archives: janishaag

This bird woman uncaged,florally abundant, smiling,clear-eyed and colorful, a woman who has seen and lovedand lived well, holding it in everycell, every fold, every wink. Let me grow into this old womanamid blooming things likeflowers and wingéd things like birds … Continue reading →

Though we were only two at the table,certainly her mother joined us, as she always does,along with another who mothered me, too, as a 20-something, new-to-town journalistwho didn’t know she needed mothering.That little town gave me two maternal voices I … Continue reading →

The memory of your face,your voice, your embrace,your last kindness, so that, as I leave you in this moment,if I should not return,you will remain tucked into the folds of my heart,my brain, my cells,where you will stay, ever as … Continue reading →

I am drawn to the circular path,the one-way passage to the center,then retracing the same way out,though it never looks the same. I gave her the little silver spiralset onto a turquoise glass pendant.I don’t recall how often she wore … Continue reading →

(for Donna and Lauren and Rosie) We love the boys, too,but these three generationsof Just girls have my heart, my sister who made me an aunton my 29th birthday, then my niecewho made me a great aunt (You’ve always been … Continue reading →

Creativity is a way of moving through the world, every minute, every day … Noticing what you find interesting, what makes you lean forward. And knowing all of this is available to use next time you sit down to work, … Continue reading →

It seems like forever since I last openedmy mother’s sewing box, a motley collectionof notions she rarely used but kept on handjust in case. The strawberry pincushion with its elegant,pearl-topped stabbers rests there with anynumber of threaded needles, their unwieldy … Continue reading →

This is a flower, a gift from the earth from which it grows. May you know that the earth provides all you need. May you know beauty, and may all you do be a blessing to the world. You are … Continue reading →

An experiment in driveway poetry (on my driveway). It’s the ending of an older poem, “This season”: But dear one,listen. Breathedeeply, exhale slowly andwith your whole,far-from shaky self,take one trusting stepinto the unknown,and begin again. You can read the whole … Continue reading →

I drive by the big billboard that saysin four-foot-tall Times New Roman: Who adopted who?and the old English professor in me blurts in the car, before I can stop myself,Whom! Who adopted whom! I knew I needed to retire when, … Continue reading →