When the Sun Was a Poet: A New Chapter

“Poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence.”
— Audre Lorde

Somewhere along the arc of my teaching and writing life, poetry moved from the edges of my academic work to the center of it. It didn’t happen all at once. But as I wrote more poetry and discovered its connection to my teaching and scholarly life, I one day found myself no longer just writing poems but living as a poet. A poetic theologian.

Today, I’m excited to share that my poetry collection, When the Sun Was a Poet: A Lyrical Almanac of Life’s Seasons and Seasonings, has been published by Kelsay Books, and is now available through both Kelsay and Amazon.

This is my first poetry book to be accepted by a publisher. My earlier collections were self-published, labors of love, offered from a place of conviction and care. I embrace this book is a turning point, not because it matters more, but because it marks a kind of affirmation, an affirmation of voice, of craft, of calling.

Poetic Theology, Seasoned

When the Sun Was a Poet is a thread woven through my new understanding of myself as a poetic theologian. The book reflects a way of listening to time, memory, body, ritual, and breath. The poems follow the shape of a year, with its solstices and harvests, its cold bones and blooming springtimes. The poems are rooted in the quiet power of seasons, both liturgical and lived.

For me, poetic theology is not only about writing poems that reflect faith or spirituality. It’s about practicing theology through the language of image, silence, and metaphor. It’s about bearing witness to the sacred in ordinary rhythms. It’s about holding joy and grief in the same weathered hand.

This book is an offering shaped by those convictions.

A Threshold of Gratitude

You can now order When the Sun Was a Poet here:

I’m so grateful to Kelsay Books for this opportunity, and to everyone who has supported my journey into poetic theology. Your encouragement, your listening, your witness—these are the real affirmations.

Blessings,
Jill

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