One poem by me plus one poem that may introduce you to poetry to love.

Becoming

The wind bringing the storm
lifts strands of hair
from my neck
     blows lines of silver
across my vision.  The air
is
     blue fire and white ice

I can taste it
on my tongue.

Pacing the forest path,
breathing pine sap
fern wet
and earth dark,
I walk with a presence old
as the Mother
new as tomorrow
     and invite her in.
The fur on my arms
     is tangled;
I am
     on all fours
mud between my toes
and fingers.
In my throat
     I feel
the coming thunder; behind my
eyes the lightning starts its
flicker.  Shifting, I soar
into the sky
     a dragon
in full flight, my wings
heart beats among the clouds.

Whatever this is called,
I want more.

from Self Portrait by Grace Cavalieri

…I tell you
The lesson is
Not learned
Though
It is known
Of shiny objects
And what will be done
to get them

It is
The moving through
And not the
Having
Which makes
Our better
Life,
Buying time
Without
The need
To make
A coat
Of it to wear

This time
I am a
Channel
So that
Others
May go…..

I met Grace Cavalieri the summer after my first semester at Goddard where I was working on my Masters degree.  She was a guest teacher for a poetry intensive at a local college that I stumbled upon, and, being full of words and thoughts and energy, took to keep sane.  She has since lived up to her name:  always a gift falling into my life.  She once wrote me:  “Please don’t take poetry so seriously.  It’s not a measure of us.  Those with power over it do not own us.”   She taught me to relax.  Continue, of course, and relax.