How to Be a God

Water the flowers.
Plant the fruit.
Create the bees.
Show them how to dance
the honey dance.
Wonder how you made
something so sensual.
Bring the moths to the light.
Wonder how you made
something so brilliant.

Read Mary Oliver.
Know she’s talking about you.
Admit you don’t understand
iambic pentameter.
Admit you don’t care
as long as it sounds good.
Wonder how she made
something beyond you.

Live. This is important.
Love. This is important.
Wander. Fail. Fall down.
Learn how to stand up again.
Build the edges of yourself.
Wonder why it’s taken you
so long to do so.
Marvel at yourself for a while.
Then get over yourself
and remember who you are.

Enter a room in a far-off land.
Care not for the gold.
You made that too, long ago.
Care not for the jewels.
Also yours in a moment of brilliance.
Find the true treasure.
She will have been waiting for you
a long time.
She is not your creation.
Made from something wholly new.
Think about giving her
the flowers, the fruit,
the bees, the moths,
the poems, the edges of yourself.
Sit with her instead.
Let her show you something.
You’ve much to learn.


Postscript: Working late, working fast.

This entry was published on February 24, 2012 at 9:51 pm and is filed under February, Poems, Seattle, Self-Portraits. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

2 thoughts on “[55]

  1. Really lovely. Makes me wonder about this ‘she’. The Earth? Sophia? Another god? Or just Woman?

  2. Beautiful. Thank you for writing it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: