Tuesday, April 15, 2008

NaPoWriMo #14: knowledge

This is what happens when I blog and write poetry really late at night: I have no idea where my poems are coming from or going to; they just sort of happen. Since I'm playing catch-up again, I decided to flow with this and see where it went, and I like what happened, even though it's extremely rough.

Hold to the Rod

From the tree of knowledge I’ve eaten fruit
so warm and sweet it glowed all the way to my belly
beams of light escaping from my eyes and mouth
but it wouldn’t have been enough to gorge myself
because knowing isn’t wisdom isn’t living isn’t being
so I walked on down a plain road
where a new moon cast no beam
where cunning fog curled itself around my heels
wrapped me in a cool caress
pulling me backward into the gloom
I caught a star to light my way
but it burned a cold hole in my hand
fell and sputtered out in dewy grass whose blades
sliced cold and wet between my toes
as I faltered on the unseen path
and then I remembered the rail I had let go
and grasping out into the black felt
again the reassuring iron under my hand.

Stars rise and fall, moons wax and wane
but my feet know where to go
even without their feeble gleam
when I hold to the rod.

1 comment:

aubrey said...

well, i wish i was that creative late at night. your way with words astounds me.