Song of Mine

by Connie Fife

my song became a seed
became a sheave of wheat brought over from europe
became a crop then field upon golden field
became a prairie companion thumb pointed upward
an opera set in the 1960's of saskatchewan led by a blizzard diva
a performance I watched with many others

my song became a note perched on tongue
a tune whistled by pedestrian and street performer
a piece of gorilla art bursting through the crowd
composed by rout of crow
blue glittering on stage
became an anthymn sung by many peoples
history unclothed
naked under a churning sun
a song as clear as the cry of northern geese gliding past

a trail leading uphill across river into mountain
each divide momentarily interrupted by deep breath
a song to the cavity where living deities are housed
walls polished by forest worm and animals burying carcass

my song became a noun, verb, syllable, consonant mixed into a broth
each finger locking with next word formed, shaped claylike
no song unsung, no rhythm overlooked
singing my way through page after page

a lullaby sung as a mother
words fused by the dictation of history
repeated by one generation to the next
trembling lips soothed, cry of newborn quieted

my song became a poem
mixed metaphor colliding and entwined by chaotic silences
a maze of corn straight backed
soft green peel protecting kernel
driven by natural growth or my desires
they step further away for me for whatever their reason

a poem speaking my name not another’s
a crafted house
inhabited by wildflower and coyote
orchestrated by assembly of crow
illuminated by cast of star

this my song composed of my many longings

Last updated December 19, 2022