Promises
This year, I resolve, to travel once around the sun.
To notice the moon’s faces, and the stars insistent percussion.
I will eye myself in raindrops that cling to naked twigs,
and elongate each moment.
Anything is possible.
This year, it will be good to walk the path of a river,
springing from darkness to surge down the land,
seeking always for the sea. Ancient water, still moving,
I will heed this shapeshifter.
This year, I have a lot to learn. I want to know what happens,
moments before sparks fly, surface to surface, energy poised
before ignition. I will be a moth to this.
I am not promising much, only to turn the earth gently,
to coax seeds from the soil,
and be ready to hear their songs.
Alison Jones is a teacher, and writer with work published in a variety of places, from Proletarian Poetry and The Interpreter’s House, to The Green Parent Magazine and The Guardian. Her pamphlet, Heartwood was published by Indigo Dreams in 2018, with a second pamphlet. Omega forthcoming in 2019. https://www.indigodreams.co.