And a voice spoke to me,
“the alphabet will be your lodestar”
and I woke from the dream enraged!
Why do his letters get to be so important?
Why can’t I paint or play music,
why can’t I sculpt clay or knit?
Why do those 26 letters
have to be my guiding star?
“Well,” said the soul,
“you can either come to them
squealing like a noisy pig,
or you can come to them with grace.”
I walk towards the town,
following the path ahead,
alone and in labour.
One push is all it takes
to give birth to her that day,
my planetary sized daughter
with her four peace-loving arms.
Lying strong and serene
on the fold of my dress,
there is more than a hint
of Mona Lisa in her smile.
“I tell you, someone will remember us,
even in another time.” ~ Sappho
And while the beautiful dreamers slept
Artemis rode her chariot into their dreams,
shooting arrows of silver moonlight
through the silken veil of night
as she lured Earth and Sky
to hunt once more. Aroused
under sparkling star-stretched light,
they spiralled into ocean blue.
Where Artemis lowered the moon,
that silent centrepiece, and spied on
each dreamer as they gave chase
to the memory of other waves.
Shamelessly Sky pulled Earth
to silky sands where silver tongues
fell, kissing until the light of heaven
shone, softening each dreamer’s eye.
My mother gave me the name
that would be the story of my life.
From womb to world
I did not choose this poet’s path,
it chose me.
And, as of this hour,
it continues to choose me,
as I walk hand-in-hand,
death my constant companion.