Wild Prayer

MJ Moore is a retired technical writer and teacher, a poet, Buddhist practitioner, wife, mother and grandmother. She has lived in the San Francisco Bay Area for over 40 years and is still enchanted by the smell of the sea, the light breezes, and the mysterious fog. From the top of her street, she can watch the sun set behind the Golden Gate Bridge. Her first book of poems, Topography of Dreams, was published in 2020 by Blue Light Press. This is her second book. Poet and teacher MJ Moore begins her new collection of poetry, Wild Prayer, with a strong, tender poem ("Metamorphosis") about children, "many swaddled from birth/ in turmoil, fear, grief." They nurture silkworms in their classroom, until Moore sees, "these children spread their stardust wings/ and launch themselves into/ the stunned night sky,/ beautiful beyond words,/ and free." I am stunned by her mastery of the deep sacred space that holds us all if only we have the eyes to see it. - Patricia Barone, author of Future Rounds the Curve While reading MJ Moore's poems in Wild Prayer, I heard the voice of Emily Webb, from Thornton Wilder's play Our Town, asking, "Does anyone realize life while they live it? - every, every minute?" MJ Moore seems to be one of those rare individuals. She is captivated by the beauty in nature and everyday life, and she is able to share her vision through thoughtfully crafted, heartfelt poems. In Colorado's Garden of the Gods at night, she listens to "the clicking of beetles," "the quiet step of mule deer," "the call of coyotes in wild prayer." In another poem she writes about our inevitable departures from this wonderful earth, when "the boatman rows up and says, /It's time... We meant to tidy up before departing,/ make sense of it all./ But of course we never did." In this "era of mortal darkness," Wild Prayer is the gift I'm giving to friends. - Kay Barnes, author of Mortal Means MJ Moore, in her new book Wild Prayer, will journey you through the minds of her small students to larger truths where "children spread their stardust wings," "a white crane lifts tapered wings/ against indigo sky," and trees stretch in "benediction." Then she'll tickle your fancy with her "Inner Life of Vegetables" and take you back to the wonder years, when "paisley and wildflower prints bloomed across our bodies" and we were drunk with the moon. Don't miss the ride. - Robin Gabbert, author of Somehow, I Haven't Drowned