Toward Myself: A Poem

By Sheila

Revolving bodies, this poem first appeared as an earlier version in YEW: A Journal of Innovative Writing & Images by Women accompanied with stunning illustrations by Stephanie Foster.

Toward Myself

and I was dead too, dead when she first held me
my father was dead and buried us beneath violets
very close to nothing. then we woke up
dear body,
a tin sheet reflected us blue
I was born the son of a prince
sir of the lake
daughter of a fish and one sun ray
baptized in the juniper mash

then God took our feet
     we gave praise
     we gave thanks
     asked for forgiveness
     then for the things we wanted

then God took our hands
     we gave praise
     we gave thanks
     asked for forgiveness
     then for the things we wanted

a growth formed inside us
     we gave praise
purple and bulbous
     we gave thanks
a pain spongy and tissue
     dear body,
bent knees in water
     asking for forgiveness
I can place my fingers on
I cannot remove or birth it

then for the things I want
heavens all keep me
inside caves drunk
on land where rocks thrown thousands of years ago
stumbled to a halt and a small child ran to furor again

my love on that footprint
my love on
gravity melting me
dear body, then to collect toward myself again

Yew is an online journal of innovative poetry, hybrid writing and images by women.

Founded in 2011 by poet Carolyn Guinzio and designer Stephenie Foster, Yew is a venue to showcase three writers per month along with visuals provided by the poets, the editors, or other contributors. Text and image will interact in a manner that enhances and maintains the integrity of both.

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