Poem # 29, the Penultimate of ’30 Poems in 30 Days’

April 29, 2013

did we startle into being

like waking to an alarm bell

or was it a long slow glide

like a swan landing

on outstretched wings-

did awareness creep

like a tide rising

fibre by fibre,

first a finger, then a toe

for what we are, it seems,

we did not always know-

were we ‘else’ before we ‘became,’

a player in some other game?

a porpoise, a mountain or a star

whatever it is we might have been

before becoming what we are..?

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