Dear Wonder Woman

​I share the dream that haunts you,
beautiful one,
woven with threads
collected by our mothers and grandmothers,
stitched into garments
that drape us with the power
to be more.
 
We wrap ourselves in its embrace,
welcoming possibility,
unaware that stones
have been left in the pockets
that we were never meant
to carry.
 
We collect the myths of time
that speak the urgency of youth,
the essential power of beauty,
forgetting that life
breathes in softness and folds
and wisdom
blooms in creases.
 
We set out striving
to have more,
do more,
achieve more,
be
more,
all the while measuring ourselves against the weight
of curated lives that exist in a perfection
that does not,
leaving us to wonder how we can ever
be enough.
 
We gather dreams like shooting stars
that sparkle in our brilliance
and hold the heavens in our hands.
But even then—even
when the Milky Way hangs
like a string of pearls around our neck--
still we hear the whispers:
it’s
not
enough.
 
And when the seams unravel
giving passage to
fear
fault
failure…
Ah, we say, see?
I
am not
enough.
 

It is a lie, wonder woman.
I know,
because I, too, have counted stitches
that have never been
enough.
 
Come instead
and sit with me on the shore
where the wisdom of water
drowns the voices we’ve given home.
Sacrifice your stones to the lake
and let her carry the ripples
to the sea.
 
Let the wind whisper
your perfect imperfect reality
and believe the birch
when she murmurs in agreement.
 
Take off your cloak
and let me mend the seams
with threads I’ve gathered;
the silk of spiders,
the wool of clouds,
and someday—someday--
you’ll do the same for me.
 
And know that this is truth:
before you set out
wrapped in your grandmother’s cloak,
before you felt the weight
of hidden stones,
before you tried to smooth the creases
or measure the unmeasurable,
before you cast your eyes on constellations,
 
you
 
were
 
already
 
enough.
 
Dear wonder woman,
I see you
in all your power and weakness,
in all your strength and vulnerability--
and you have
always
been
enough.

---

Skating Wild - An audio installation

Recently part of the Harbourfront Centre's newest exhibit Northern Ontario Diaries, an audio installation of "Skating Wild".  The poem was inspired by my experiences skating on the wild ice of Lake Superior. If you can't make it to the venue, click HERE for a link to the recording.

Did you hear that?
Lake Superior calls to us.
Come with me,
I will take you to the shores
of Gitchee Gami
to the sea at the heart
of a continent...

Art installations at Prince Arthur's Landing, Thunder Bay Ontario

Two excerpts from Jean's published works were selected by the architectural firm Brook McIlroy for permanent installation at the newly redesigned waterfront in Thunder Bay, Ontario.  With Lake Superior playing a major role in providing inspiration for both Dawn Watch and The Red Sash, it is fitting that words from these texts appear at Prince Arthur's Landing.

From Dawn Watch:

It was my job to watch
for ships
and lights
and land
and logs
floating lost on the great inland sea

Location: Mariner's Hall, inside the Water Garden Pavilion 

From The Red Sash

Outside the palisade, the voyageurs are dancing, too. They are telling stories about cold winters and wild animals, long portages and turbulent rapids. They are wrestling and playing games. They are happy to be here after such a long winter. They are happy to be here after paddling many hard days. They are happy to celebrate rendezvous! My bright red sash blows in the breeze. I think I will dance, too.

Location: Children's Garden, exterior of Pond Pavillion