A Song of Wondering Me
The day I set out to parse a shallow creek,
I had no fire to keep kindled.
I toed the shore beneath a bridge,
Where the reeds and cattails spindled.
The stream lead deeper into brightening woods,
And I followed the same,
Till the babbling of the brook took on a voice
And sweetly called me by my name.
I drove my feet from upon the rock,
To caress the lapping tide,
My legs became the water, and sung along
To the calling at my side.
At once my shoulders sunk below
As the water rose to kiss my cheek;
The rest of me had long since dissolved,
Felled by the pleading creek.
My final breath was brought out at last
When my eyes held only dark;
The whisper of a word could scarcely be heard,
But had enkindled the faintest spark.
The water spun slow, taking on form,
And halted the ebbing stream.
That small fire grew, and raged,
And forged a spectre out of steam.
My hands emerged, afraid yet to move,
While the water returned from borrow:
My limbs, thumbs, breast and back,
My head with its hope and sorrow.
Fully formed I returned to land
To tread a path from where I came,
Wandering through silver sage
And the golden light of a heart aflame.
This poem is a tribute of sorts to William Butler Yeats, and specifically the poem "A Song of Wandering Aengus", which is my absolute favorite.
@ellowrites @ellopoetry @ellopoems @ellozen