such temptation, compulsion, to write poems
on the contemplations of your untamed mind,
as you rest well beside the seas and meadows,

on a mattress of grass you sit conscious of
the pastoral provinces of you soul, wonder
treading the crisp morning air, your ripe pen

dripping with images and contrary notions
on meaning and purpose, sometimes hostile
and scornful, sometimes hope-filled, loving

you  render misery or joy and your wish is
to help – absurd fantasy? – to move reader
to healing, so you abandon jejune clichés,

or try to, lapping-up nectar from blossoms
and draining the lakes, lazy lagoons, and
blotting dry the oceans, turning on sunlight,

the moonlight and stars, dancing with trees,
nature has its guidance to share, its ageless
sagacity, you draw down Grandmother Moon,*

and Earth spins on her axis of righteousness
let her fragrance be your intoxication, the wind
prods you, yield to shared fate, it is a mistress ~
know your heart as a wide country, a meadow,
surrender to temptation, to your compulsion . .  .
. . . . . . . write poems

* in Wiccan tradition “drawing down the moon” is calling on the goddess to enter you  and speak through you

© 2013, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved, Licensing for online publications is nonnegotiable and requires permission, attribution, link to this site, my copyright, no modification, noncommercial only. Licensing for online publication does not imply agreement for further use in the site’s printed anthologies or collections.
Photo credit ~ morgueFile