to be air
a free verse poem for Crucible: the stone womb of elderhood
[Old Women] are the Earth, and the Earth is us. That is the nature of the deep, embodied knowledge which we can pass on to our young. — Sharon Blackie, Hagitude
Let there be sky
awe and sigh
bird flight
be moved
and shaped
taken away
by everything
butterfly wing
mountain ridge
sunshine
persistent low pressure
conduct bird song
sand
starlings
come from everywhere
come from nowhere
touch the skin of every single thing
rush inside empty spaces, hollow places
nooks and crannies clogged with must
gather up all that hot ocean water
whip rooted things into a frenzy
upend cargo ships
oil barges
parked cars
ego trips
let bi-product and waste
become oxygen
turn into something breathable
touch everything as if it is sacred
meet everything as it is
provide lift
make a sudden shift
become a silence moving
ripple hairs
and every body
of water
create a wave
get gone and become a calm
scream through a slot canyon
and down an urban street
carry the hoot of owls
the caw of crows
a musky scent
shimmer a tree
suspend a big fat fuzzy bumble bee
caress a flower
breeze through an hour
fill a lung
brush a cord
bellow a song
wisp a feathery thing
into a whimsical sing
only heard when deeply listening
whisper softly
steal a hat
peel off a roof
throw down a tower
and your best laid plans
let them say you blew it
and ruined…
