what’s the nature inside the nature of one wolf?
a wolf drinks what rain has risen from earth, drinks melting snow that has answered first thirsts of others and falling for the valley crease river down below, drinks those last lasting moments of fear then pain then longer night, drinks sadness doubts regrets and with equal pleasure joy and the sweet taste of new grass, drinks what you never said to mother but thought about repeatedly, drinks a father ghost, drinks those buttons you gave away for a kiss that took years to arrive, drinks the baby’s smile like dew, and the baby falling to the dirt, drinks waving wheat farther than an eye can imagine yet.
so there’s the matter, the measure the manner of a life, all justified by sharp willing teeth. how much harm or laughter matters the meaning of spirit in flesh? here belly, here mouth, take this wedded bliss.
neil reid © october 2012
Write a stream of consciousness poem, was the prompt for writing this.
No great shakes as a poem, just a poem-in-play, but true to the process as I sense the quality of this prompt. Most all simply as it arrived over a few minutes time; not edited much at all. Did have to resist the desire to edit/add in more material afterward. Time does play a role in writing like this, sort of how broad the river goes. Would be good to do again.
Amusingly, the title, done long after the (prose) poem went through far more “thoughtful editing”, changing many times until!
Written for the We Write Poems prompt #125, Streams of consciousness
Read the prompt for more detail.