“When I am nineteen
I want to make a star.”
Sit in a redwood way up high
on eggs to hatch and
follow Blue wolf deep into forest,
fear running the opposite direction.
When I am forty-four
I want to sing an opera with coyote
ringed by sage and arroyos.
Dance flamenco at midnight on Madrid’s
cardinal peak under star breath.
And play my ukulele in summer pastures
by the Chukchi River, shepherded
by camels and shaman.
When I am ninety-seven
I will throw a silver line up to the moon
and tether her earthward.
I will rest in her curve perfectly held.
She will bear me to her quarters
and with a gentle nudge I will fly
When I am me,
now and forever, that’s how
it will be.
Prompt for today from NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo:
“Last but not least, our (optional) daily prompt. Today, I challenge you to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art. But I’d also like to challenge you to base your poem on a very particular kind of art – the marginalia of medieval manuscripts. Here you’ll find some characteristic images of rabbits hunting wolves, people sitting on nests of eggs, dogs studiously reading books, and birds wearing snail shells. What can I say? It must have gotten quite boring copying out manuscripts all day, so the monks made their own fun. Hopefully, the detritus of their daydreams will inspire you as well!”
Special thanks to 7-year-old Romanieo Golphin Jr. who, “When I am nineteen, I want to make a star.”
So beautiful. So apropo
Thank you, Sandy.