The Verse for Now

A meditative collection of poetry exploring interior and planetary upheaval through verses on interconnection, grief, and the transformative power of deep listening to the earth.

The Verse for Now is the ninth book from poet Jacqueline Suskin. This meditative collection asks us to accept ourselves as planetary, at once vast and cosmic, while equally small and animal. As we witness the flames and floods of climate crisis, what guidance might exist in a moment of contemplation while kneeling beside a rushing creek, walking midwestern streets, writing poetry, or sitting with an old growth redwood? Even in the dark days, Suskin shows us what it means to trust, praise and honor the earth. Listening to landscapes both rural and urban, she uncovers divine tools of transformation, uplifting the practice of relationship with people and planet. The Verse for Now sings of interconnection and agency in an expansive universe, where together we create the endless story of life.

Advanced Praise for The Verse for Now

What is it to love a place—and then leave? In her ninth book, Suskin wanders further inward than ever before, with a voice that is older, wiser, perhaps a touch more weary. Here, we are invited to witness this brilliant poet’s poignant rumination of all that stands to be lost in this world, even the earth itself. The Verse for Now is a collection of longing, of frustration. It is a lurching, howling cry—to be held, to hold, to make sense of what lingers in the dark. But it is also an effort to dig beyond despair in order to find hope. This book is Suskin as we’ve never seen her before—feral, yes. Wild. But also vulnerable, unsure. A soft creature, asking what comfort is there / in this decaying world—that is, what remains, at the end of everything? The answer Suskin offers us is simple, moving, profound: love.

— Suzanne Honda, author of When We Were Birds

Jacqueline Suskin writes: Beyond the self / and their satisfaction sits / in the center of each bloom... and like Suskin, all good and curious writers are so agilely positioned: beyond the self, at the center of their own bloom. Her writing unfurls slowly, methodically, patiently as each breath is taken with a deep exhalation, as well as a hunger to know the self and the Earth with better intimacy. The Verse for Now offers us a moment of tender reprieve, it is a book to remind us of all the bright possibilities that still exist. We are alive in such crucial times, may we mark each day with the openness that Suskin explores and writes with. This book is a beautiful prayer.

— Fariha Róisín, author of Survival Takes a Wild Imagination

Here is Suskin singing, and translating the songs of trees and the land: The plants never stop singing directions. Sometimes they are songs of spitfire, ecstasy, or earthly grief. Sometimes they act as warnings. Often they are lyrical reminders that we and the earth are alive. These are lyrics for the here and now, for loving life and this land in all its hues. It isn’t for memory that I make it all, it’s for right now.

— Lora Mathis, author of The Snakes Came Back