Poem: Week 1 - Star
Star
"A great and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head."
-Revelation 12:1
"...keep warm this small hot naked star/ fallen into my arms."
-Lucy Shaw, "Mary's Song"
After the angel dissolved, I stood among the skies,
no longer dressed in brown linen, but with fire:
the sun's silk my gown. I leaned into the swirl of gold and lit.
Have I created my Creator?
My mother clucks her tongue. Questions, she says,
cause confusion. She could never hold what I saw:
the crown upon this plain brown head,
twelve stars in motion, set spinning like a child's toy,
and rushing towards me, flames in its wake, blazed
the greater star, its hot white orb.
Should I tell you it entered me, how the warm simmer settled?
When I woke to this dirt floor, my mother's voice
in the next room, issuing me out the door,
I ran my hands down my belly,
knew what is real is the crown, not the dirt.
Later, when the nausea came, when the accusations
birthed, when all those I loved turned enemies,
I would stand in the garden, arms raised,
close my eyes and feel the spinning crown encircling,
feel this star descending into human form.
Credits
Created by
Patroned by
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.