I’ve come out of hiding
at long last
a half-century is all
it took
This is no crossroads;
this is a launch.
From a cliff?
Into a sea?
Up where the air is clear?
I am not knowing
Yet I am holding on
to something
holding it lovingly to my breast
A secret bio
This holy thing
with nouns like sanctuary-keeper and way-shower
storyteller and bridge
(that tenderly dislodge other nouns
like engineer and executive and doer)
And one sentence:
The dream world, the natural world, the human world are not separate.
I hold this holy thing as a launch pad
and cast off
everything else
(c) 2015, Jennifer Comeau