Poetry Month

April is Poetry Month. A whole month of rhyme and rhythm, metaphor, allusion. Every word the density of a black hole in your mind. Poetry is love in language.

April was much fun in my bookstore. Writing contests for elementary school kids. Poetry slams for tweens and teens. Several readings a week from all manner of poets in Albuquerque. One of our event coordinators was a regional poetry publisher, so we had our pick of the best. We had music every week all year, but in April it was magical — our incredibly talented house band with equally talented word-smiths, riffing off each other, challenge and riposte. Never missing a beat or a symbol.

In memory it glows and beckons. I wish…

So in April there will be poetry.

of the rippling streams

of the rippling streams am i made
	of song
	of starlight
	of soft black earth
no mere house of spirit am i
	no mere mortal cage
of red granite am i hewn
	and veins of molten steel
yea, this corporeal me
	of miracles is cloven
	of glory is woven
i am more than i am
	i am that i know
	and more and more
of the rippling airs am i formed
	of crystal fountains
	of rooted foundations
	of mighty forges
and what i sing is
yea, i am eternal
	hard as diamond
	fluid as fire
	reborn in the now always
i am alive
	a bright torch of being
yea, to be
	and to be always
	is my birthright
for of rippling waves of light
	am i
yea, i am

©Elizabeth Anker 2021